The Stormcrown Alliance:The Reachman
by Hhall2014
Summary: An exiled prince becomes king of Skyrim's criminal underworld before returning to retake his homeland. Will he find his place in the world during the chaos that engulfs his life?
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note: This story does not feature the Dragonborn, although I hope to tie into a future story featuring my Dragonborn. Also I have altered the timeline of Tamriel, just to better fit into my story. The only thing I own would be the original characters. Bethesda owns Skyrim and the various mod authors own the various mods i use in my stories.**

_The Reachman_

Chapter 1

**4E 176, Druadach Redoubt, The Reach, Skyrim**

Madanach took his seat in Druadach Redoubt. Druadach Redoubt was the proxy-capitol of the Kingdom of the Reach until Markarth could be retaken. He had his best leaders and briarhearts gathered for a war council. It was time to plan. It was time for war. It was time to retake their homeland. The Empire had ruled the Reach since the days of Tiber Septim. Although the Emperors normally ruled by salutory neglect, the Reachmen were sick of being ruled by outside forces. The Reach would have a kingdom even Red Eagle would be proud of.

The Reach has been ruled by foreign rulers since Hjalti Early-Beard became Tiber Septim. In the Old Beliefs when Anu reformed all of Creation into Nirn, he started with the beautiful mountains and flowing rivers of the Reach. As Man and Mer came into the world they recognized the power's of Anu and Padomay. The worship of these Gods started in the Reach.

Now the beliefs of the Old Ways was basterdized into The Aedra and Daedra. Anu was fractured into Eight divines. All different aspects were split from one entity into eight. Now the mortal Men even claimed a Man as a God. Padomay was split into the Daedra. Sithis, Sheogorath, Molag Bal, Mehrunes Dagon, all agents of change. Only the Reachmen continued in their worship of the Old Gods.

In all the time that the Reach was ruled by bastard rulers, they never took away the worship of the Old Gods, until now. The souhtern half of the continent was engulfed in mage fire. Steel cut down the sons and daughters of all races. Tamriel cried out at the death of her children. Elfs were attempting to ascend to godhood. They were claiming their worship as the only way of worship. The Aldmeri Dominion was at the head of an Inquisition to stomp out all worship unapproved of by it's Elven overlords.

After hundreds of years of being ruled by uncaring, foreign rulers, the men and women born in the land of the Old Gods were going to stand for themselves. They were going to throw off the shackles of Imperial bondage.

The ten tribes of the Reach had ajorned an elected a king. Madanach woud lead his people in taking back their homeland. Madanach would hopefully be Red Eagle reborn. He would need the assistance of his leaders to rule his people.

Madanach had heard the whispers of his name. He had heard what the people had expected of him. But Madanach knew he was no Red Eagle. He knew he needed his brother's warriors. He knew he needed Nepos's intelligience. Istane's religious fervor to get the people behind the movement. He was only unsure of how to get them to agree.

The leaders of the Reach had spent months planning their revolt. Every time it came down to the fact that Reachmen were not warriors in the sense of men who captured cities. Reachmen were guerilla warfare specialists. They were experts at destroying a target and escaping unseen. They would need assisstance of the Orcs.

Madanach looked to his leaders. Nepos Who-Knows-All, his spymaster sat to his immediate left. Mathoc, his younger brother and the military leader, sat to his right. Directly in front of him sat Istane. Istane happened to be the leader of the Briarhearts. Effiectively Istane was the religious leader of the Reachmen. This also made him the biggest thorn in Madanach's side.

He needed the Briarhearts to commune with the Old Gods. Without the Old Gods, the Hagravens would not assist in the racapture of their homeland. The Brairhearts were the religious leaders of the Reach. They communed with the Old Gods, and were the only ones the Hagravens would delegate orders to. The Hags ,in turn, were the only ears that could hear the voices of the Old Gods. Madanach knew that he didn't understand the old Earth Magic enough to understand the Old Gods. Yet, Madanach knew his people well enough to know that he needed the Voice of the Old Gods in order to wage this war. Thus, he had Istane on his war council.

"Nepos, Have you sent put an agent to Dushnikh Yal? We will need those berserking Orcs if we mean to take the city." inquired Madanach. Nepos,looking offended that Madanach would even ask, answered," My King the Orcs have agreed to aid us in retaking our homeland. But for a price. They want their tribal lands. The want a New Orsinium."

"Thats ridiculous! We offered them a chance to throw off the yoke of the Empire, and they want more.. These Orcs ask to much. Mathoc, Can we take Markarth without them?" Madanach asked his younger brother.

"Brother it is as you said to Nepos. We will need them. The only way we could dream of taking Markarth would be if we built our army for ten years, and the Hagravens somehow doubled in number.'' Mathoc replied. Mathoc was becoming very tired of this. He knew how the war meeting would go. Until the Orcs joined their ranks, no one was going anywhere. Mathoc just wanted to return to his wife and eight year old son Mathurin. They were in the Karthspire camp a days ride away.

Nepos was weary. He was old, even for a Breton. If being an elder counted for a race, he felt like he should be a part of said race. He was growing tired of Madanach sitting around, all talk, he never backed up all his talk.

"We can't just pass this opportunity, the Legions are gone. The War with the Dominion has given us the perfect chance to retake our homeland. If we are lucky the Empire will have been bled sufficiently that they will allow us to become independant." Nepos stated. He was just trying to push this conversation along.

Madanach pondered to himself. This war had raged for three years now. No one knew when it would end, if it ever would. The once capitol of the Kingdom of the Reach was left practically defenseless. The only people guarding it were the city's guards who were led by the city's Jarl.

"We will wait on the Orcs. With their berserkers we could easily take the city" Madanach decided.

And with that the council was over and Mathoc could return to his family.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note: This story does not feature the Dragonborn, although I hope to tie into a future story featuring my Dragonborn. Also I have altered the timeline of Tamriel, just to better fit into my story. The only thing I own would be the original characters. Bethesda owns Skyrim and the various mod authors own the various mods i use in my stories.**

**P.S. The Main Character is introduced. Well technically he was mentioned last chapter but still.**

_The Reachman_

Chapter 2

4E 174, Understone Keep, Markarth, The Reach, Skyrim

Mathurin watched from the steps as his uncle took his seat upon the Mournful Throne. He ignored the dead Jarl's head that sat at Madanachs feet. All Mathurin cared about was his father being named head of the Kingdom army. It was an exciting fact for the eight year old. He knew his father was in charge of his uncle's soldiers, but with actual armor and swords. Mathurin had started his training two years previously and heavily anticipated using swords and real bows and real armor instead of furs, sticks, and bones.

Mathurin knew his military training was put on hold untill his father had complete control of the city. But his mother would still have him sent to the Briarhearts at the old temple of Talos. He knew as a member of the King's family he would be in charge of something as an adult. Mathurin hoped he would lead men into battle like his father, or secret mission like Weylin.

Mathurin sent many prayers to the Old Gods, and secret prayers to the New, that he would lead a life like his father or a secret one like old Nepos Big-Nose's best agent. He knew that the worship of the New Gods was not according to his parents wishes, but he wanted to increase his chances of getting his prayers answered. Although he made sure he never told his parents that he prayed to the Nine Divines. His mother ,Irephine, was the daughter of the leader of the Briarhearts. Once she heard him pray to Talos for the chance to be a strong warrior and Julianos to be a powerful mage, she beat him until he bled.

Mathurin had no false illusions about his parents marriage. He knew his mother and father were married to form an alliance between his uncle and grandfather. He just hoped they cared for each other the way they cared for him.

"Mathurin, go see your grandfather. It's time for your lessons." Irephine commanded

"But Mother do I have to? Can't I stay and watch Dad train his soldiers, or Uncle rule the court?" Mathurin begged.

WHAP! Irephine slapped her son hard enough that a light red handprint was marked on his cheek. "Never shirk your responsibilities to your people. Mathurin, unless your uncle marries and has an heir, you will be the next king. You need to know your people, their history, their belief. Mathurin, you don't want to be a King that your peole mock and plan against. Go to your lesson."

"Yes Mother"

Two Months later...

Mathurin had fallen into a normal routine. Wake up, eat, combat training with his father, lunch, then steakth training with an agent of Nepos, Supper, then training with his grandfather Istane. He enjoyed his archery training with his father. He loved sneaking with a dagger or learning new things in alchemy. At times he even enjoyed the training he recieved from Istane. Normally he only liked the Magicka training, but at times he also enjoyed learning history or religion. He loved learning of Red Eagle and of Durcorach the Black Drake. As far as religion went he loved to learn but the Old Gods always had his interests. They were all but forgotten. They were given new names, new characteristics. The Gods were changed for Men and Mer. He understood why his people so reverantly worshipped Padomay and Anu.

Mathurin was on his way to to father's training area when he walked by his uncle's room. Normally Madanach would be already upon the throne. But on this day he stood talking to the Orc cheif Borkul. The Orc scared the young Breton to death. Everything about this man told Mathurin he was more animal than man. He was beastly. Mathurin thought he seemed more like a follower of Hircine than Malouch. Maybe he held some beast blood.

"I am telling you the boy has magicka levels we have never seen, and for his age his ability with a bow,sword, or dagger, are better than most of our men." Madanach explained.

"Bleh, that means little our Orc daughters could kill most of your soldiers without breaking a sweat. I still say you need to find yourself a woman and sire your won heirs" Borkul stated. " Don't you ever want to lay with a woman?"

In all honesty Madanach was not interested in the local women. He had a thing for Dunmer. He knew as king he could never have is desire. "Maybe one day I will find a woman worthy of being the queen to my people" Madanach resigned.

"She may be someone to forge an alliance with. Has the Empire responded to your claims of independance?" Borkul inquired.

"We recieved the same response as New Orsinium did, Silence." Madanach stated.

"I still say you should not have all your hopes on this one boy" Borkul growled.

"He is the new Red Eagle. He will rule the Reach." Madanach stated with pride.

"Why are you so proud? It isn't like he is your child. Or is he? Borkul said as much he asked.

Madanach grinned evilly. That was all the answer he gave. Borkul had his answer.

Mathurin decided it was time to find his father. Or not father. He really wasnt sure anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: This story does not feature the Dragonborn, although I hope to tie into a future story featuring my Dragonborn. Also I have altered the timeline of Tamriel, just to better fit into my story. The only thing I own would be the original characters. Bethesda owns Skyrim and the various mod authors own the various mods i use in my stories.**

The Reachman

Chapter 3

4E 176 Markarth, Kingdom the the Reach

Mathurin still refuses to tell his father what he overheard that day. All the confusion over whether Mathoc was his father or Madamach was. He knew he hated his mother. She was nothing but a whore. She was manipulative, cruel, and a fanatic. Mathurin no longer cared to speak to his mother. For two years he watched her treat Mathoc as his father. He heard them at night, he knew she lied everytime she told him she loved them.

Since that day Mathurin took notice to Madanach's behavior more often. He noticed all the visit's to his home. He noticed his mother's reaction to Madanach. Simple handshakes or familial hugs she treated as acts of lust. She was enamored with him. It made Mathurin sick.

After time Mathurin came to understand Madanach was really his father. Although by breeding he was Madanach's, he would always claim Mathoc as his own father. He would never give Madanach the pleasure of being acknowledged. The only thing Mathurin acknowledged was the betrayel. He knew the Old Gods preached against it. He knew Mathoc would be justified by killing Madanach. He just never had the guts to break his father's heart,

News came one day for Mathoc as he was training his son on using dual weaponry. News that the son of the former Jarl had went to Jarl Ulfric, of Windhelm, to retake the Reach for Skyrim.

Windhelm's militia were marching to Markarth. They would be here in a matter of weeks. If only it were winter. Then the Royal Reach Army would have time to prepare. Mathurin knew his father would fight to the death to defend his family. Yet, he knew he coudn't let his father die without knowing what he over heard. As soon as the Breton courier left, the young Reachman asked his father for a private word.

"What is it ,son? You know I am supposed to treat you as a normal recruit, not as my own flesh and blood." Mathoc demanded.

"That's the thing,Father. I have something to tell you. I have kept it to yself for two years. Something I overheard Uncle Madanach and that Orc Borkul discussing one day. I am not your son." Mathurin hesitated as he saw the look on his father's face. " Your brother has been lying to you. Your wife, my mother has been a harlot. She has been laying with Uncle for years. I overheard Madanach bragging about it. In the two years since I knew, I have heard Mother and Uncle continuing this affair many times. I have seen the way she acts towards him. I have seen how he treats her as little more than a plaything. You, Mathoc, may not be my birth father, but you will always be my real father." Mathurin stated.

Mathoc gritted his teeth. His face deathly pale as he mentally connected the pieces to the story his son had woven. Then it fell into place. It all made since. Madanach had arranged their marriage not just to form the political alliance, but to have his sex toy whenever he wanted. Who would question an heirless bachelor visiting his only family? No one would find it odd.

Mathoc knew what he would do. He thanked Mathurin for coming intructed Mathurin to follow him after training. Then he ordered to all the green recruits that the break was over. It was time to train. An army was coming they needed to be at their best.

Three Hours later...

Mathurin finished his sparring match with another younger Reachman. Exhausted, he put his equipment back on the training rack. He looked to find his father. Mathoc was waiting for Mathurin by the stairs leading up to the Keep. Mathurin followed his father all the way to the Mournful Throne.

"MADANACH! YOU BETRAYER!" Mathoc shouted. " I'm your own brother. How could you?"

Madanach, still as pompous as always,"What did I ,dear brother? I promise as soon as the Orcs finish forging the weapons and armor, your people will get them. No need for the dramatics."

"She was my wife." Mathoc responded, hate strong in his voice." The Mmarriage you arranged. You don't even like our people, you blood-betrayer. You want Dunmer! Why do this to me, who loved you so?"

"Ah, so you have found out. How i might ask?" Madanach questioned." And as far as the Dunmer go, do you see any dark elves? Your wife meant nothing to me just a way to please myself."

Istane looked stunned. He had know about his daughter's crush on the King when they were younger. But that is all he thought it was: a childhood crush. Now he found his daughter to be a whore. His king to be an adulterer. The man he called his son-in-law stood before the king, in all rights he could call a blood-duel. The Gods would not be displeased. Istane himself cursed Madanach to live his life in rags. Of course, he did so under his breath.

Mathoc did an unexpected thing. Instead of challenging his brother. He demanded a divorce. He swore to kill his brother, but he swore he would wait until after the Stormcloak was deafeated. Then He told Madanach he would have a new home. Away from his Dibellan whore, one that would be his and Mathurin's until the extinguishment of Mathurin's line.

Madanach fearful of his brother's wrath and gave in. Giving them Vindrell Hall. As father and son left, Madanach began concoting a plan. A plan to remain on the throne, defeat the Nordic militia, and ensure his brother's demise all at once.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: This story does not feature the Dragonborn, although I hope to tie into a future story featuring my Dragonborn. Also I have altered the timeline of Tamriel, just to better fit into my story. The only thing I own would be the original characters. Bethesda owns Skyrim and the various mod authors own the various mods i use in my stories.**

_The Reachman_

Chapter 4

4E 176, Markarth, The Kingdom of the Reach

The banners of Windhelm could be seen for miles around the walls of Markarth. There was a sea of blue around the stone city. It was the closest to the sea many would ever see. It was an unimaginable sight for the leader of the Reach's army. Mathoc stood from the top of an old Dwemer tower near the Keep. He was safe from all archers. Safe from the enemies catapult. Safe from harm.

By his side stood Mathurin. Mathurin had not left his father's side since the incident at the Throne three weeks previously. No more classes from Istane, no more traning with Nepos's agents. He had been at his father's side the entire time.

In those three weeks a lot had changed. Irephene had commited suicide. She jumped from the very tower they now stood upon. Istane's briarheart had burst upon hearing the news. Madanach now had the Orc Cheiftain stay at his side constantly. Nepos spied on Mathoc twenty fours hours a day. The Silver-Blood family, the main Nordic opressors, were allowed out of Cidna Mine and back into their home. What used to be Mathoc's home.

Mathurin knew deep down. Padomay would come to Markath today. Souls would be claimed for the Void. He just prayed it wasn't Mathoc's or his own.

Three hours later...

The militia had finally made it through the Dwemer Gate of Markarth. They were storming the dryside of the city. The Reachmen met them from the steps and from the wetside.

Mathoc fought with every ounce of strength he had. He fought with such ferocity that the soldiers he trained to fight were known as the Madmen of the Reach. He killed any Nord that came in his sight. Mathoc fought like a man protecting his family. His dual maces were caving in skulls. He was breaking the ribs of any Windhelm soldier. Mathoc knew if his men failed Mathurin would die.

Madanach stood from the top of the stairs of Understone Keep watching the battle take place below him. He looked to Thonar Silver-Blood beside him. Thonar nodded his head. Madanach pulled out his horn. He blew the horn four times. A new code meaning to fall back and leave Mathoc to die. Reachmen all retreated into the Keep. All except for one.

Mathoc continued to fight. Even when he realized his soldiers were abandoning him. He continued to fight. He could not fail. It would mean Mathurin's death. His mace cracked the chest of one Nord who stepped up. As that mace hit that Nord, his other mace pulverised another's head. Mathoc was covered in brain, blood, and gore. He knew that today he would go to the Void, but he would send as many souls to Padomay as possible.

Today he would please the Old Gods. He would fight back the mongrel Nords. The people who prostituted their beliefs for foriegn rulers. Mathoc would be the leader his brother never was.

Ulfric stormed through the gates. He was tired of the muddy fields. He wanted to sit upon the Mournful Throne. He would claim the Jarlship of this Hold until Igmund arrived. As He entered the city, he was stunned to see that his soldiers were being stopped by one man. This man fought like a deadra. Ulfric pushed his way to the front of his soldiers. Ulfric watched as this man fought.

After awhile of this man killing countless soldiers. Ulfric shouted. as the man fell Ulfric drove his sword into the man's chest. Pinning the man to the ground, Ulfric ordered his soldiers to kill any who resisted.

Mathurin watched as his father's life was taken. Mathurin watched as his uncle turned to the Silver-Blood and smiled. He was happy to see his own brother dead. Mathurin swore one day he would kill Ulfric Stormcloak and he would kill Madanach.

One Month Later...

Jarl Igmund had retaken the Throne of his father, Hrolfdir. He and the Silver-Blood families were overseeing deporting the Reachmen who would not swear fealty to the Empire. The Reachmen who wouldn't take the oath, took the title of Forsworn.

The Forsworn took to the hills and mountains of their ancestors. They began a guerilla war against the Empire. Igmund had as many soldiers as his hold could handle until he could control the situation.

All those situations, and there was one situation still that Igmund still could not handle. The heir to Madanach was still around. Igmund did not have it in his heart to kill the boy. But he had no clue what the Silver-Blood family had spirited Madanach away too. So this boy is the only possible threat to Igmund on the throne.

As he asked his court members for advice, his fathers housecarl, and now Companion, Jergen told the court that he would take the young prince to Riften to the Orphanage. Afterall if the kid survived Grelod's tyranny he deserved to live. With that the young Mathurin's fate was decided.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: This story does not feature the Dragonborn, although I hope to tie into a future story featuring my Dragonborn. Also I have altered the timeline of Tamriel, just to better fit into my story. The only thing I own would be the original characters. Bethesda owns Skyrim and the various mod authors own the various mods i use in my stories.**

**P.S. Let me know what you think. If my writing is terrible tell me. I can't get better without knowing what I do wrong. If you like something tell me. I would love to be able to add more of it.**

_The Reachman_

_Chapter 5_

4E 176, The rode to Riften, The Reach, Skyrim

Mathurin stared at the warrior across the campfire from him. The man perplexed him. He was the former housecarl to Jarl Hrolfdir. Jarl Hrolfdir was the Jarl of Markarth when his father and uncle revolted and captured the Reach. The man Mathurin claimed as his father captured the Jarl and brought him to Mathurin's biological father, Madanach. Madanach had his head chopped off and placed at the bottom of the Mournful Throne.

Here this man was helping Mathurin survive. When all other advisors told the new Jarl, Igmund, to kill the young boy, this man volunteered to take him under his watch. He was to deliver the Forsworn Prince to Honorholl Orphanage in Riften.

"Boy, If you are as near as smart as they say you are, you need to disguise yourself," Jergen forewarned."If people knew you to be the son of the King in Rags. They would kill you in a heartbeat."

"What do you care?" Cried the ten year old. Mathurin was mature beyond his years, and held an understanding of matters most people never would understand. Yet, he was still a ten year old who watched as his uncle(biological father) leave his father(technically uncle) to die. Mathurin just could not fathom all that had occured in the last three months.

"Boy, when i failed at my duty as Housecarl, I was without honor. The only thing i could do to reclaim that was to join the Companions. The protectors of Skyrim. Whether or not you admit it, Mathurin you are a part of Skyrim. Your people claim to be seperate, but you descend from the same Nedes as I do." Jergen explained.

Mathurin did not know how to take that, so he asked." Well how would I disguise myself?"

"Well, Boy, you have enough Nordic blood in you to pass off as a Son of Skyrim. Call yourself Thurin. Don't lie to people just tell the whole truth. Say your parents died during the war in the Reach and claim to be of mixed heritage. Most folks 'round the Rift are Imeprial-Nordic mixed so you can probably get away with it." Jergen offered his advice. He couldn't make the boy take the advice, but he could not return to his Harbinger without trying.

Mathurin asked," Why Honorhall? Why take me where i may die?"

"Boy, anywhere in Skyrim you may die. Honorhall will be the best chance of survival for a boy like you." Jergen stated. " Besides if you can survive Grelod, you won't have to worry about the rest of the province."

With that Mathurin attempted to stay quit the rest of the trip.

Two weeks later...

Riverwood's Inn did not have the room to hold all of the war refugee's moving into the area, but Jergen acquired permission to camp outside the Forge. The Companion had made sure to give any pelts or furs to the blacksmith everytime he was in town. Jergen also knew the blacksmith had a son,almost Mathurin's age. He knew it would be good for Mathurin to meet Alvor.

"Thurin, set out our bedrolls. I will see about getting us some food." Jergen ordered.

Mathurin ,still unaccustomed to his Nordic name, gladly set up camp for the night.

Jergen had come to know the young Reachman well in the two weeks of travel. He knew the young mixed blood would do anything for food. He also knew the young child loved the Skyforge Steel dagger had sheathed at his waist. He had sent word to Jorvaskar, he had ordered a Skyforge steel dagger from Eorlund Gray-Mane. The young blacksmith was inexperienced but incredibly skilled with the forge. While his brother was away fighting in the war, Eorlund trained to one day be the best blacksmith in Skyrim.

As Jergen returned with food from the inn he began to tell the boy about running into one of the whelps of Jorvaskr in the Inn.

"Skjor is here to kill a bear preying on the locals. Skjor is just about as mean as a man could ever get,"The Companion grinned." But he knows how to carry out orders. Do you remember that merchant we talked to when we first entered Whiterun hold? I sent a letter ahead with him requesting a dagger for you. I have seen you eyeing this one. I know you Reachmen prefer shorter blades so here."

Mathurin was overjoyed. He had never seen a finer blade. He knew Skyforge Steel was the strongest non-magical metal. Supposedly ancient Earth Magics that predated even the Snow Elves were used in creating the Skyforge. He only sat in stunned silence as the man gave Mathurin the blade.

It was wrapped in a leather scabbard, but not the knid you usually find for blades. It was held at the hilt, keeping the blade free. The belt the scabbard attached to was made to go around his waist but to go over his shoulders. The blade went across his back the way Jergen carried his greatsword.

"It is because you have not hit your full growth yet. When you are a man full and proper then you can put it on your hip." Jergen explained.

"Rest up. We have about two more weeks until we are in Riften. In that time I will train you in every way of being a Nord. I'll teach you the proper way to hold a weapon, not a mage's way. Boy, when we hit Riften you need to appear as a Nord would." Jergen said.

That night Mathurin dreamt of joining the Companions, glory, of being a Nord. He wouldnt learn for another decade of what his Gods had in store for him. A much darker fate.

**AN: Fixing to do a big time skip. Need to cover ground and get my story rolling. Again tell me what you think.**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: This story does not feature the Dragonborn, although I hope to tie into a future story featuring my Dragonborn. Also I have altered the timeline of Tamriel, just to better fit into my story. The only thing I own would be the original characters. Bethesda owns Skyrim and the various mod authors own the various mods i use in my stories.**

**P.S. Let me know what you think. If my writing is terrible tell me. I can't get better without knowing what I do wrong. If you like something tell me. I would love to be able to add more of it. Also, S/O to Shroudedpanther for being my first reviewer. Pointed out i need a beta reader, if interested PM me.**

_The Reachman_

Chapter 6

4E 186, Riften, The Rift, Skyrim

Ten years. Ten years to the day since he had been left in Riften. Left to rot. Left to die.

Thurin had spent a month traveling with that cursed sell-sword Jergen. After Jergen's gift of a dagger he had hoped Jergen would adopt him. Thurin was incredibly wrong. No one adopted him. No one wanted the half-breed. He was alone. He had spent an entire decade friendless.

His mother had been a liar, a whore. His father was really his uncle. Both dead due to the polotics in his homeland. His real father had been the reason behind both deaths. His public rejection of his affair had drove his mother to suicide. He had recalled his soldiers to leave the man Thurin called his father to fight waves of the Stormcloak's men.

Jergen had left him. He had stayed a week in Riften, then left with the twin boys whose bed Thurin took. Thurin had hoped the man would take him. Thurin should have known better.

Thurin had suffered such loneliness it would break a lesser man. In all his days on Nirn, he would only meet one other individual who suffered how he did. The other man had snapped. Thurin just turned darker. He had started out his life training under the Chief Briarheart, He understood darkness. He knew Padomay.

When he was brought to Riften he had his first introduction to the New Gods. He learnt of these false Gods. He was taught all of Mara ,as Riften had the only Temple of Mara in Skyrim. While in public he led on like a devout follower, but once back in the orphanage Mathurin cursed them all. In the privacy of his bed, Thurin was no more, Mathurin came back.

During his decade long tenure at Honorhall, the cheerful, optimistic Reachman was twisted by the despot Grelod. Outside the Orphanage Grelod would take a kindly motherly attitude to the children, but inside the Orphanage she beat the children mercilessly. The woman was cruel and ,since his arrival, Mathurin had been one of her favorite targets.

As the young man grew to maturity in Skyrim, he became influenced by the corruption that is Riften. At the age of seventeen he met a thief who took interest in the young lad.

**4E 183**

"Grelod has sent us to pick up her groceries again," Thurin told the other child with him.

Two years senior to the kid, Thurin didn't even bother with the boy's name. He no longer cared. In a year he would leave the Orphanage and never look back.

"Running a little light in the pockets,lad." Came a voice.

Thurin knew the man. He was the wise talking con-man who set up a stand everyday in the market place. Always was he trying to scam the people out of their money.

"Well sir, Grelod won't let us have jobs, as we have to attend to her." The other orphan stated.

"Kid, go finish getting groceries. I wanna hear what the man has to say." Thurin commanded.

After the orphan left, the man said, "Name's Brynjolf. Mathurin you have been watched. We know who you are. We want you to join up with us."

"Who?"

"The Thieves Guild,lad." One o' yer own is a part of our crew. An old Breton named Delvin Mallory. He's been watching you since you got here. He trained with old Nepos. He knows your training. He wants to finish it."

"Where do I sign up?"

And with that Mathurin found his escape from Thurin, from Grelod, from his life he had hid for years.

**4E 186**

Now two years out of Honorhall, three years into the Guild. Mathurin was a Prowler for the Guild. How Mathurin looked at it, he was halfway to Guild Master.

In the past several years, he had first gotten his feet wet doing odd jobs for Delvin and Vex. Last year he had done several big heists for the Guild.

Learning from Delvin had been the best thing to happen to Mathurin since he had been exiled from the Reach.

Both Delvin and the current Guild Master had trained with Nepos. Most of the other Guild members were trained by Delvin.

Mathurin was training in skills he would use the rest of his life. But honestly he was interested in learning of other things as well.

While he was being trained in the arts of the Thief, he repeatedly becoming distracted from his jobs. He had been a rising star in the Guild until he started training under Vex.

Vex brought out things in the young man no female had before. All women in this part of his life were his dead whore of a mother, the cruel tyrant Grelod, and the girl orphans who he viewed as sisters.

Now things were awakening within him, things he had no explanation for. When he asked the male Guild mates he was only ridiculed.

He would never talk to Tonilia or Sapphire about what was happening. He just continued to focus on training, on jobs, and on Vex, and well technically Vex's armor.

Bryn had come to view the lad as a younger brother. He understood that the boy never had experienced a woman before. He knew the lad never had a chance, not without help.

"Lad, Come over here! I have a new assignment for you." The Guild's second ordered.

"You are going to Riverwood. You are going to activate the Blessing of the Thief Standing Stone. You know the Guild isn't a religious lot, but lad you have got to get an extra push if you want to get promoted to Cat Burgler. When you are through there, head on to Solitude. There will be a Guild contact there waiting to fill you in on your next assignment. Also, when you see our little Vex send her my way." Brynjolf told the younger thief.

**Two Hours Later...**

"He just now found you?" Bryn asked.

"What do you mean?" Vex responded.

"Mathurin. I told him two hours ago to send you to me." The Second explained.

"Oh, he went to Vekel and got roaringly drunk as soon as he got back from seeing you. Cynric, Vipir, and Mathurin had a drinking contest. It started out as Mathurin needed a drink because he was needing to calm his nerves and the other two pushed him into it. You would have thought they were having a contest with Sanguine himself." Vex stated. "Then before he went up to Dryside he told me you needed me."

"Ah," Bryn sighed. Now understanding how desperate the situation truely was.

Then he laid out his plan for the attractive young thief.

**AN: Mathurin gets darker, also starts the journey to becoming a man. No Vex won't be a serious love interest. I don't really intend on that. The Character(of a book) I based Mathurin off of had a new love interest with each chapter of his life. I plan on my Mathurin being the same way. BTW, I skipped several boring Guild missions. **

**P.S. Review, and if you are interested in Beta Reading lemme know! In the words of Sheo, Ta Ta!**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Let me know what you think. If my writing is terrible tell me. I can't get better without knowing what I do wrong. If you like something tell me. I would love to be able to add more of it. Also, S/O to the Anon reviewer I have. Whoever you are, you gave me some much needed confidence, and S/O to Lady of Dov for being my beta reader.**

_The Reachman_

_Chapter 7_

**4E 186, Riverwood, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

Mathurin stood beside the forge listening to Vex haggle with the older blacksmith. She was attempting to procure simple leather armor. Normally, the Guild wore their armor with pride. But recently the Guild was becoming more prevalent in Skyrim, and they were traveling to the Province's capital. Vex had taken them initiative and decided they needed to travel more discreetly. Mathurin had only been as far as Whiterun City on a mission for the Guild so he just followed her lead.

"Look, Imperial, my son Alvor is getting married soon. I can't afford any of this namby-pamby, honey worded haggling. Either you give me the gold then you get your armor, or you leave my store. Lucan over at the Riverwood Trader may have some clothes, or even some Mage's Robes. Try him." The old forgemaster stated.

Mathurin knew the man wouldn't back down.

"Come on Mathurin. Let's go to the Trader." Vex said. While Mathurin knew it was a statement, he had been a Guild member long enough to know to follow Vex's orders.

While he was infatuated with the blond, he was scared to death of her fiery temper.

**...**

After some serious heckling, Vex had obtained two Mage's Robes with hoods and each of them some basic leather boots.

Vex now was wearing a set of Robe's known as Apprentice Robes with her hood down, while Mathurin was wearing Novice Robes with his hood up.

"Vex, how much longer until we get to the Guardian Stones?" Mathurin inquired. He had grown tired of this journey. He seriously just wanted to reach Solitude and get his next assignment. His nerves were wrecked. He had been alone with Vex for two weeks straight. They had slept inside the tent every night they camped, and for commodity's sake they had shared the bed at any inns they had stayed at. If Vex did not know how Mathurin felt, she certainly felt the reaction she got out of him.

Now he just wanted to get some space, he was smart enough to know he would never get the guts to talk to her about it. Sure, he could take out skeever-infested breweries. He could handle sneaking into the island estate of one of the wealthiest Mer in Skyrim, the estate being guarded by dozens of mercenaries. None of that fazed him. Vex well she vexed him.

As they neared the Thief Stone Vex ordered the younger thief to touch the Shrine and see if it gave him a blessing.

Uncertain as to how they would know, Mathurin slowly approached the Stone. As his hand hovered over the Stone, not yet touching but mere inches away, some form of static energy began to flow through Mathurin's veins.

Earth Magic.

Those two words began to circulate around Mathurin's head. He knew this was no Mer or Nord magic. He knew it came from the Older Ones.

As his hand touched the stone, a blue light shot into the air. This magical aura illuminated a whole constellation. Unlike the inhabitants of other provinces, the people cared nothing for constellations. Yet, Mathurin knew this didn't happen for just anyone.

"Woah, It didn't do that when I came." Vex admitted.

"Yeah, well I didn't really plan for that to happen." Mathurin stated, unsure of the significance of the odd occurence.

Realizing that for a constellation to appear it must be getting pretty late at night, Vex ordered Mathurin to begin setting up camp.

While Mathurin began lighting the fire that would keep them warm through the night, Vex said," I am going to go bathe in the river, don't pull a Delvin. Stay up here, or else that body part you hope I don't notice touching me every night won't be there any more."

Mathurin while certainly tempted to peek at the Imperial's bath, was to scared of losing his manhood. So he chose to remain by the fire. And so by the fire Mathurin, waited hour after hour for Vex too return. After awhile he decided he would go to bed. Surely, she would wake him when she came to bed.

After Mathurin entered the tent and set up his bedroll, he began to change into some normal clothes to sleep in. As soon as his shirt came off he heard a low whistle. With a face full of extreme embarrassment, Mathurin realized Vex had been in the tent for hours. She was not laying on her end of the furs, but in Mathurin's.

"Listen,Breton, that thing's been prodding my behind every time we sleep. Now it's time to see if it works as well as I am hoping it does. " Vex said in her most seductive tone of voice.

**...**

Mathurin woke to the naked Imperial's head on his chest, sound asleep. Instead of waking the Imperial he slowly moved her out of the way, and began to dress for the day. Of course, the Breton failed to remember Vex was one of the best among the best in the Guild. Her accuse hearing woke her almost instantly. She playfully yawned and asked",How sore are you? I for one don't know how well I will walk today."

Mathurin only laughed. Mainly because out of inexperience he knew no reply, partly because he was embarrassed he had left Vex sore. While yes he was sore in places he never would have expected. He had been training, even in secret at the Orphanage, all his life. Soreness was a consatnt companion for him.

"Mathurin, we still have a month to make the two week trip to Solitude. Why don't you lay back down?

"Well, little Vex, why don't we hurry to Solitude so instead of doing this in a tent on some furs and two bedrolls we can in a real bed. I'll buy." The Breton charmed. Brynjolf had been teaching him how to get his way using speechcraft. It was all in the long forgotten skill of etiquette. Plus, he had traveled with Vex long enough to have picked up on how to get on her good side.

**... **

After two weeks of travel by day, romp by night, the duo of thieves found themselves in the Winking Skeever. The start of the new mission was located there, as well as a bed Mathurin had purchased for two hundred Septims. It may take several days to assess the situation for the Guild, and with the insatiable Vex several nights.

The mission from the Guild was to turn a rogue informant into a fence and get information about a threat to the needed to locate the rogue. Assess the usefulness of the informant. If still useful he would attempt to sway the target to the Guild. If the contact decided to be difficult, Mathurin could take any means short of murder to turn the contact.

The asset was an Argonian named Gulum-Ei, and he would be no easy target.


	8. Chapter 8

**A.N. Let me know what you think. If my writing is terrible tell me. I can't get better without knowing what I do wrong. If you like something tell me. I would love to be able to add more of it. Also, S/O to Lady of Dov for being my beta reader**

**P.S. I got my Beta invite to ESO, so I may tie in some of that to my story.**

_The Reachman_

Chapter 8

**4E 186, Solitude, Haafingar, Skyrim**

He had finally dealt with that infernal Argonian. He had snuck through the East Empire Trading Company Warehouse, silently killed an entire encampment of bandits, only to be refuted by Gulum-Ei.

Mathurin had tried everything he could think of to get the information out of the slippery lizard. He had even beat the beast within an inch of his life. Still he refused. Finally, Mathurin played his last trump card, "Well, if you won't tell me, I will just have to send for Mercer Frey."

At that the lizard had squealed. Every single slip of gossip in Solitude was now available to the Guild.

When he left the Company's warehouse, he went straight to find Vex. As the Breton walked up the stairs of the tavern, he began to hear the tell-tale signs of someone making love. He just assumed that others were thinking the same as him. Unfazed, Mathurin walked to the door of the room he shared with Vex. Upon getting to the door, he knew it was her.

Silently opening the door, he saw his first love, his first heart's desire, in bed with the innkeeper's son. Without saying a word, without interrupting, Mathurin left.

He was heading home. Mathurin was going to Markarth.

**...**

After a week of uninteresting travel, Mathurin stood before the doors of Markarth. Capital of his homeland, this was the city where his father had been killed. Mathurin set about to explore the city.

After hours of wandering the capital, he came upon a Vigilant of Stendarr. The Vigilant had been asking about a haunted house. To Mathurin, the Vigil meant nothing. He cursed the order. They persecuted the Old Ways. He knew of countless people being killed in the Reach by the Vigilants, but something told him to enter the house with this man.

...

Vigilant Tyranus approached the door to the cellar. "I don't believe this is an ordinary Daedra we are dealing with." The Vigilant stated. He pulled out his silver dagger and a vial that held a mixture of Void, Fire, and Frost salts. "I'm ready"

Then he charged through the door.

Mathurin tried to follow him down through the house, but lost sight as he entered a dug out tunnel. Mathurin pulled out his Skyforge Steel dagger and charged in after him.

The sight that lay before him was not what Mathurin had been expecting. On an altar, one of Mathurin's father's, Mathoc, mace was levitating. In a trance at seeing his father's prized weapon in such a terrible state, he completely ignored the screaming Imperial trapped in a cage.

As he grabbed his father's weapon, Mathurin heard a voice dominate his mind.

_Kill, Destroy, Subjugate._

"What the-?" Mathurin asked himself.

_Kill the Imperial. He aims to desecrate my altar. Not realizing he offends the Lord of Domination. I want to see him fall to me. Beat him. Torture Him. Bring him to his death, but do so slowly._

And so Mathurin took the rusty mace and delivered blow after blow. He used his dagger to dismember the warrior-monk. He smashed out the mans teeth. Every time he felt his victim begin to slip away, he recalled the ancient magicks first taught to him as a boy. He restored the man with as much health as he could, only to take it away again.

As time ticked off the clock, Mathurin realized he was making no progress. He began to experiment. He would heat up the blade and stick it to the man's skin. Then he would freeze the blade and stick it where appendages used to be.

After four hours of commiting this terrible deed, Tyranus finally gave in. As soon as he had enough, Mathurin killed him.

_Well, done. My Mace is now renewed._

Sure enough, when Mathurin checked out the weapon he could tell the enchantments were new, the rust was gone, and the spikes sharpened.

**...**

Mathurin had just drunk his fifth ale. He knew he needed to stop. But remembering the way Vex made him feel, then seeing her with the other man, it devastated him.

Then he thought of the abandoned house, the sins commited there. He felt no guilt. He felt happy about what he had done. As he realized this he began to look for anyone to drink with.

As luck would have it, Mathurin soon found someone who had trained under his father. The man had as much reason to drink as Mathurin, so drink together they did.

After one too many drinks, Mathurin revealed to the former Reachman who he was.

"There'ssss nnoo way Mathoc was yer' father..." Cosnach hiccuped. "His boy was kilt by the Jarl Igmunt."

"No way, I'm his son. Well, I am Madanach's but I don't claim that sack of..."

At the offense to his king, the drunken Cosnach decked his younger drinking buddy. With that the fight was on. Cosnach had taken to fighting the way of the Nords. He would swing his fists without really aiming. Hand-to-hand skills weren't used in Skyrim. But Mathurin had trained with the Thieves Guild. He would dodge and roll. He avoided any other hit by his inebriated adversary, all while striking back.

Cosnach threw an outside swing at Mathurin's head. Mathurin stepped inside the swing and gave a fast punch to his opponent's temple. And with that the larger, older Breton crashed to the ground. When the brawl was over, the patrons of the inn all went back to their business. All but a younger Breton girl.

"Hi, I am Muirin." She said.

"Hi, I am taking you to bed." He drunkenly replied.

And so with time with another woman, he forgot about Vex. Yet, after beating Cosnach senseless the feeling he had with the Mace only became stronger.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Let me know what you think. If my writing is terrible tell me. I can't get better without knowing what I do wrong. If you like something tell me. I would love to be able to add more of it. Also, S/O to Lady of Dov for being my beta reader.**

**P.S. Just a recap, in case you need it. Mathurin's mother had sex with brothers Madanach and Mathoc. Mathurin claims Mathoc as his dad. He hates Madanach for allowing Mathoc to die. He was sent to Riften by Jarl Igmund because he couldn't kill a child. He grew up to hate Grelod, and at 17 joins the thieves guild.**

**The Reachman**

**Chapter 9**

**4E 187, Markarth, the Reach, Skyrim**

Three Months. Mathurin had been in the Reach for three months. He knew he should return to Riften, to the Guild. Yet every time he thought of the Guild, it only brought up bitter memories of Vex. He knew he was in his homeland. He knew he should belong here. But somehow he didn't. These Nords had made it so that he didn't belong in his own place.

He had decided to devote his days in Markarth to learning what had happened since he had left eleven years ago. During the day, he went around doing odd jobs for the inhabitants of the city. By night, he looked for familiar faces. He had found several old soldiers who had fought under his father, Mathoc. He even ran into several of Nepos' old spies.

About a month into investigating his city, he found that the Reachmen still loyal to the Old Ways lived in a ghetto of the city. It was practically an old sewer system. They had called it the Warrens. He met Weylin while he was there. The old agent he had looked up to as a child.

"Well, if it isn't Mathoc's boy, or are you Madanach's. I'll be Red Eagle." Weylin said with a mixture of stunned amazement and bitter amusement.

"I'm Mathoc's. Not Madanach's." The younger Reachman said furiously.

"So you have forsworn your father, have you?"

"Yeah, like you and the other defender of the Reach did when you left my father to die."

"Hmmm. Forsworn. Has a ring to it. I may run that past Nepos. If Madanach approves we may start running interference."

"Madanach still lives?" Mathurin questioned. As far as he had found out, no one had word of the King. Some said he was killed by the Silver Bloods, others he was imprisoned. Mathurin could have some form of closure. He needed to see Madanach. "Take me to him."

"No."

Mathurin hit him. He hit him with years of anger, years of living a lie, years of betrayal, all those things wrapped into one hit. The agent's nose broke with a loud snap. "You will regret that boy. Nothing I can't do to the Prince in Rags"

"Prince in Rags?'" Mathurin questioned. He closed his eyes, just trying to focus on all he was taking in.

When he opened his eyes he was alone in the Warrens.

He decided to return to one of the lesser known taverns of Markarth to find a drink and a girl to warm his bed.

**…..**

Mathurin was woken up by a large hand roughly shoving him off the bed.

"Get up, lad. I'm upset it came down to me coming here and dragging your drunken rump out of bed. But I am impressed with your bed mate and the amount of alcohol you consumed last night. So drunk, you didn't even notice me." Brynjolf said with his easy grin.

Mathurin looked to the still sleeping girl. While as of the night before Mathurin was testing an experiment to see if beer goggles were a real thing or not. He was pleasantly surprised to see his bout of drunken revelry had actually landed him in bed with a gorgeous girl. One who looked oddly familiar? It was the girl he had bedded his first night in Markarth. Wasn't Muirin her name?

"What do you want?" Mathurin asked. His face masking the rage inside him.

"That's a nice weapon there lad." Brynjolf said with a grin.

Mathurin grew a nice, bright shade of red when he realized his state of undress. Then he realized the Mace he used was sitting on the bedside table.

"Relax, I am just here to talk."

"Again, I say: what do you want?" Mathurin repeated.

"Mercer has left the Guild. Delvin was badly poisoned. We need you back lad. Guild's gone crazy. Karliah is back."

Mathurin had heard rumors of Karliah while he was in the Guild, but he never knew anything concrete.

"I'll come back. But I have some terms to it. I never want to be sent on a mission involving Vex again. I want nothing to do with her. I get Mercer's house. And I want full access to all the information you have been hiding about this Karliah."

"Done, if you can make the rent payments Riftweld is yours, and done." Bynjolf grinned. That had went way better than he had thought it would. With that taken care of, he let the other thief in on all of the mess that had happened since Mathurin's job in Solitude.

When they were through, they set out for Riften.

**…..**

Mathurin entered the headquarters of the Guild and went straight to Delvin's bed. The oldest active thief was recovering in bed, while a Dunmer stood above him.

"So this is the lad?" She asked. Her voice truly honeyed her words. In her voice was a sadness Mathurin recognized. Someone she loved had been killed in front of her.

"Aye, lass. He is the one we need to get Mercer."

"There is no one else." She said more than she inquired. "Very well, both of you follow me."

The trio of thieves journeyed through Riften, out the gates, all the way into the wilderness until they came to an old standing stone.

This was the most unique standing stone Mathurin had ever seen. On it weren't the normal constellations, it had all the different shadowmarks, and different daedric symbols.

"The Hall of the Nightengales." Karliah called it.

"Nightengales? As in: the priests of Nocturnal?" Mathurin asked.

"You know I'm not the religious type." Bryn said.

"Just shut up and follow."

With that she led the duo into the abandoned cave. Upon entering the cave, they realized this place was no more a cave than the Flaggon was a sewer.

"Over there, those stones. They have your new armor. I will be in the next room over waiting on you to change clothes. Come over as soon as you can so we can call upon Her." Karliah commanded.

Without saying a word, both male thieves went to the indicated stones. Curious as to what new armor Karliah was referring to, both were immediately impressed by the Nightengale armor.

After donning the new armor they entered a circular room to find Karliah, wearing her armor, praying at an altar.

"Oh no, she does realize I don't pray to Aedra or Daedra, right?" Mathuring questioned.

"Don't worry, lad. Karliah has a plan. I am just not sure what it is yet."

"Boys, stand on one of the circles you see to the sides. I am going to commune with Nocturnal."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

**AN:S/O to Lady of Dov for being my awesome beta reviewer. She helps when my stories are terrible. She mentioned in a review that my story has no romance. At the time, no Mathurin doesn't have a love interest. Maybe as he matures a person, but for now he just wants to please himself.****  
****Also I still will do my time at the start, it will connect in with later stories.****  
**  
_The Reachman___

_ Chapter 10_

**4E, Nightengale Hall, Riften, Skyrim**__

Mathurin stood upon a symbol of Nocturnal. He knew she was the patron of Thieves. He knew she was a Daedra. Yet he felt closer to Padomay. He felt the presence of the First. He felt pure Chaos. At that moment, he understood larceny was not only about filling the coffers. He realized all the chaos stealing caused. If kept unchecked it would cause riots, not enough and people became pretentious with their possessions.

While contemplating the Thieves Guild's place in the grand scheme of things, he became aware of Karliah performing a ritual. He realized he would actually see a Deadric Prince.

Karliah chanted, "I call upon you Lady Nocturnal, Queen of Murk and Empress of Shadow... hear my voice!"

Ah, Karliah. I was wondering when I'd hear from you again. Lose something did we?

"My Lady, I've come before you to throw myself upon your mercy and to accept responsibility for my failure."

You're already mine, Karliah. Your terms were struck long ago. What could you possibly offer me now?

Karliah grinned, "I have two others that wish to transact the Oath; to serve you both in life and in death."

You surprise me, Karliah. This offer is definitely weighted in my favor.

"My appetite for Mercer's demise exceeds my craving for wealth, Your Grace." Karliah returned boldly to the Prince.

Revenge? How interesting... I take you and the Nord, but not the Reachman. His destiny is elsewhere. Give me that Imperial. The blonde. She will be my Agent of Subterfuge.

Karliah was shocked, "Lady Nocturnal, we accept your terms. We dedicate ourselves to you as both your avengers and your sentinels. We will honor our agreement in this life and the next until your conditions have been met."

Very well. I name your initiates Nightingale and I restore your status to the same, Karliah. And in the future, I'd suggest you refrain from disappointing me again. Also, Mathurin, keep the armor. It will help you in the future. You have my blessing, but you are not one of my agents.

**...**

After sending Delvin to tell Vex to join Bryn and Karliah, Mathurin sat down with the recovering Breton to inform him of the Reach.

Mathurin talked for hours of the corruption of the city by the Silver-Blood family. He talked about the whispers of a cult's foundation. Right in the city's catacombs. But the main subject they talked upon was Madanach.

"Lad, why the obsession with the King? I know you are related to him but you seem to take it beyond that." Delvin inquired.

Mathurin proceeded to tell Delvin who he really was. He told Delvin of his grandfather, leader of the Briarhearts. His mother, who slept with brothers. He told of the man he knew as his father, Mathoc, war leader of the Reach and younger brother to Madanach. Lastly, Mathurin told Delvin of the King, his betrayal of Mathoc, his claims to Mathurin, and the overheard conversation about Mathurin being the Red Eagle reborn.

Delvin let out a low whistle. "So all this time we had the true prince of the Reach and we never knew it. One day, lad, when you're king, remember your friends."

"Delvin, I doubt I would get to sit upon the throne, or any Reachman for that matter."

"So to current business; what is going on with Karliah? Bryn insists you are the one to help, then you return and get Vex." Delvin asked.

"Nocturnal has called them to form the Trinity. They will be the new Nightingales. I received Nocturnal's blessing, but she said she wouldn't have me."

"Wouldn't take you? The best thief in Skyrim since Gallus Desidenius! Why in Oblivion not?"

"She said my Destiny was elsewhere."

"Elyswer?"

"No, not Elyswer. Else where. Two words joined for one meaning."

...

"Pack your gear, lad. We are going to Irkngthand. Mercer is after the Eyes of the Falmer. Biggest set of stones in Skyrim."

Mercer's or the Eyes? Mathurin wondered but kept to himself. It was stupid to cross a Prince and Mercer of all people should know.

**...**

Mathurin ducked under the swing of a Falmer sword. As he dove forward, his Skyforge Steel dagger sliced through the ribs of the deformed elf. As soon as he was clear of the dying Falmer he rolled into a crouch and surveyed the camp before him.

If he went left, he would have to either fight his way through camp or maybe stealthily kill the Falmer as they went. The three Nightingales and Mathurin wouldn't have a hard fight getting through the Falmer defences. They would just be exhausted before they reached Mercer Frey. If they went right, they could hopefully creep around the camp without alerting the inhabitants.

Mathurin went right. Avoiding the steam-heated pipes the Dwemer left behind, Mathurin crept along the outskirts of the camp. When he had went as far as he could, he signaled for the others to wait, dropped below, and slit the throat of the Falmer sentry.

Motioning for the others to catch up, Mathurin entered the next part of Irkngthand.

**...**

Right before they entered the Sanctuary, Karliah stopped the group.

"He is just be inside here. If we are lucky, maybe we can kill him before he notices us."

With Karliah's lackluster pep talk, the group entered the Sanctuary. The first thing Mathurin saw was the beautiful statue of an elf in ornamental robes. Sitting on the elf's nose, cocky grin in place, Eyes of the Falmer in each hand, sat Mercer Frey. The traitor among thieves stared down upon his former guildmates, his very aura screaming victory.

"Did you really think you could sneak up on me?" He gloated.

"Well, we counted on Nocturnal's blessings." Karliah explained, somewhat pouting as she did so.

"Nocturnal doesn't care about you, me, or anyone. She just wants her personal worship. How else do you think I stole the Skeleton Key? She didn't even pay attention to it! Now let's get this over with. Karliah, say hello to Gallus for me." Mercer roared.

Mercer put away the Eyes, and cast a spell. With the blink of an eye, Mathurin dove into the area below. The Nightengales were hit by Mercer's spell and where paralyzed instantly.

Mercer, upon realizing his better odds fighting just one, cast a warding spell, keeping the other three away.

Mathurin threw himself at Mercer. Years of combat training were being called upon to aid the younger thief. Mercer taunted the Reachman as his Dwarven sword parried the smaller blade.

"Is that all you brought? A butterknife. You brought the weapons of the Companions. Yep, you brought the knife they use to slice their bread with." On and on, the taunts went.

Mercer sliced his blade downwards, fully intending on burying his blade in Mathurin's forehead. Mathurin sidestepped Mercer's blade and sliced up his arm.

Mathurin had drawn first blood. He had inflicted the first wound, both mentally and physically. Mercer no longer felt invincible. In a moment of panic, Mercer cast an invisibility spell on himself.  
If the roles were reversed Mathurin would have used that tactic to strike, but Mercer retreated. While Mercer licked his wounds, Mathurin checked on his comrades. They were staring down at him, screaming unheard words to him.

Mathurin spent the next few moments assessing the situation. Mercer had seen him use the dagger countless times. He had never seen Mathurin use the Mace.

Drawing the Mace out of its place at Mathurin's side, he began to pray to Padomay. He gave thanks for the opportunity to send a new soul to the Void. May Mercer be judged accordingly.

His prayer finished, Mathurin scooped some of the grit of the floor below him. Grinding the grit into a fine dust, Mathurin launched the grit in the air. The powder landed on the kneeling figure that was Mercer Frey.

Smiling, Mathurin brought his Mace up into Mercer's chin. After breaking his jaw, Mathurin spun the Mace around and brought it to the side of Mercer's knee. When Mercer's doubled over in pain, Mathurin brought the weapon down upon the back of Mercer's skull.

"You asked for that one," Mathurin stated with grim satisfaction.

Turning to the others, he heard the shouts they had been yelling the entire time. Mathurin had been so intent on his fight, he failed to realize the Sanctuary was coming down around them.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Mathurin moves on up in the world. I have two more Chapters that are Guild based chapters. Then Mathurin will move on with his life. S/O to Lady of Dov for being my beta reader. Check out her awesome stories.**

_The Reachman_

_Chapter 11_

**4E 187, Ragged Flagon, Riften, The Rift, Skyrim**

Mathurin was in the middle of the Ragged Flagon. A new inhabitant had moved in. She called herself a face sculptor. Mathurin wasn't interested but still the thought was pretty cool. As he continued to inquire about the woman's storied history, Brynjolf came in and told the Guild to meet in the Cistern.

When the whole crew had gathered, Bryn gave his report. "It's been a year since Mercer's death. As you all know after Vex returned the Skeleton Key, we regained Nocturnal's blessing. Not just a few select individuals, but the whole Guild. We've had hundreds of contracts pouring in last month. We need new recruits. If you see someone with our kind of skill, send them to my stall in the market."

"Bryn when will we have a new Guildmaster?" Niruin asked. Niruin was a Valenwood Guild member who transferred to Skyrim. He couldn't stand not having a leader. He hated the current set up.

"Do we really need a guild master that badly?" Bryn asked. He was clearly offended that his idea didn't work. He had come up with the current system of delegating different aspects of leadership to many people. He handled the day to day operations, Delvin handled small missions, Vex handled infiltration missions, Niruin and Vipir trained. Karliah and Mathurin were supposed to be recruiting. The issue was that no one wanted to be a part of the Guild after its recent hard times.

Several 'ayes' rounded through the crowd.

Karliah stated, "Brynjolf, it's no offense to you. Just remember back to Gallus. He always had a plan. We always had jobs. This place was as lively as the Imperial City. Yes, we are doing better now than with Mercer, but not by much. We need a clear leader."

The crowd agreed with the Dunmer refugee.

"Well, who?" Bryn sighed, defeated.

"The best thief should lead." Supplied Cynric.

"A contest then? Whoever brings in the most gold to our coffers." Delvin stated.

"That may have been how they did it in the old days, but we need something different. Whoever leads the way in rebuilding the Guild." Brynjolf said.

The general consensus was that the leader needed to earn their place. Bryn's suggestion held: whoever led the Guild in it's reconstruction effort would be in charge.

Mathurin was thinking of a way to help out with the traveling thief on a way to fence goods.

He grabbed Delvin by the arm and pulled him into the training room. He knew the older Breton had no desire to be the boss, so he knew he could confide in him.

"I have it, I have a way to help in rebuilding." Mathurin told the elder.

"How's that?" Came the reply.

"When we pull off a big job in a major hold we have to look for a fence in a Guild influenced city, correct? Well, what if I had a way for us to have fences outside each city?"

"Pray tell, how would you do that?"

"The khajiiti outside the city. Their caravans travel the entire province. They camp out right outside the city. So if we form an alliance with them, we will have a way to fence stolen goods wherever we are in Skyrim. If it beneficial enough to them, they may even start sending us some recruits." Mathurin said with excitement.

"Hmmmm, that may just work. But you will need to take their leader a present. It's diplomacy. Their leader is Ri'saad. Take him a package of moon sugar." Delvin gave his advice.

"Okay, well where do I get moon sugar?" Mathurin asked.

"Really lad, you're in Riften, in the headquarters of the Thieves Guild. Who do you think you need to see?"

With that last bit of advice from Delvin, Mathurin set out to find Tonilia. Tonilia was not a tweaker, she wasn't a skooma head. But she knew how to get things. When he found her. He told her of his plans. She sent him to Cragslane Cavern. As a Guild member he got in for free.

**….**

After purchasing several bowls of moon sugar from the dealer at Cragslane, Mathurin headed to Whiterun in order to find Ri'saad.

When he approached the city's gates, he saw that the fur tents of the caravans were set up.

Approaching the leader, Mathurin greeted. "May you always walk on warm sands."

"This one sees business in the young Bretons eyes, yes?"

"That is true. I come offering an alliance. The Thieves Guild wants to use your caravans as fences, we will supply you with moon sugar and skooma." Thus, the deal was offered.

"Ri'saad thinks that maybe this could be good for the Khajiit." The deal was made.

"One last thing: if any of your people want to join the Guild, they need to see Brynjolf at his stand in the Market."

**…**

Upon reentering the Cistern, Mathurin noticed everyone was gathered around Vex. She had been on an assignment in Windhelm. Supposed to be stealing from a Curiosity shop. She had been stabbed all over and was bleeding everywhere.

"There a rival group starting up in Windhelm lad. We want you to go and put a stop to them." Brynolf ordered.

Before Mathurin left, he made his way over to Delvin and passed on word of his success. The old thief would tell the Guild while he was gone.

**…..**

After searching through Eastmarch, he had found the startup guild inside a cave. Slowly taking out any sentries he had made his way inside. After sneaking in, he came upon a forked path. Mathurin went right when he came to the fork in the path inside Uttering Hills Cave. He crouched low in case he came upon any Summerset Shadows. He knew at least three still lived.

He came into a smaller area that had two guards at the front and the leader standing around. Rolling up behind the leader, Mathurin drew his Skyforge Steel dagger across his throat. Searching the body, he found the necklace he had come for. Turning to the guards, he announced his presence.

"I have killed the rest of your motley band, lay down your arms and I'll let you live."

One elf dropped her steel axe, the other growled and charged at Mathurin. The aggressive elf hadn't made it three steps when Mathurin's dagger buried itself hilt deep in his throat. Mathurin calmly reclaimed his blade. After wiping the blood off, he walked to the female high elf, "Want to join a real Thieves Guild?"

**…**

Back in Windhelm, Mathurin met up with Torsten Cruel-Sea. Handing over his dead daughter's necklace, Mathurin said, "Thank you for your patronage, Captain Cruel-Sea. The Guild looks forward to your payment next month. We will continue to keep you protected."

Cruel-Sea paled. He hadn't wanted to be a patron of the cursed Thieves Guild. He just wanted his daughter's killers to be repaid. He wanted her necklace back. With a sigh, he acknowledged the extortion that had just occurred.

**….**

Smiling boldly, Mathurin listend to the newest report.

"Whiterun is now ours, thanks to Vex. We also have the patronage of the Battle-Born clan. I handled Markarth. We have a new fence there. Vipir has gained Solitude, as well as a new fence, and the patronage of Erikur, Thane of High King Toryyg. Mathurin has acquired the usage of the Khajiit caravans, recruited several Khajiiti into our ranks as well as an Altmer, he has brought Windhelm under our influence." Bryn droned on. He was clearly displeased to be in last place.

"One more and you will have this whole guildmaster thing put away," Delvin grinned. "And I know just the job for you."

**…**

The boat ride had been immensely boring. Mathurin had spent the last month and a half traveling with a bunch of drunken Nords. All just to find an old Guild asset that had went dark.

On landing in Raven Rock, Mathurin was incredibly stunned to see that the once proud colony of Morrowind was now a mere shell of its former self.

He approached the smithy, "Hello, would you point me in the direction of the inn?"

"Inn? You must be from Skyrim. It's the Cornerclub. Just right across the way there." Came the gruff reply of the blacksmith.

Mathurin turned to leave, as he turned he saw the shadowmarks. The shadowmarks were the age old signs of the Thieves Guild. Maybe this job would be easier than he thought.

"Say, your last name wouldn't be Mallory, would it? He inquired."

"Delvin send you? You got the looks of one o' his. Name's Glover. Delvin's me brother."

"Well, I'm here on Guild business. We were wondering why you went dark. Delvin hasn't heard a word for years."

"Tell you what. You do a job for me, I'll tell you what's been going on."

**…..**

Mathurin handed Sapphire the note. In the note, Glover told Sapphire he was her father. And that Delvin was her uncle.

Mathurin had what he needed. He could now take the position of Guild Master. He went to the Cistern and called a meeting. Bryn gave his usual report of the Guild's business in the last month. When he tried to finish, Mathurin fake coughed.

"Oh, that's right. The leader ordeal. Who votes Mathurin in as Guild Master?"

The Cistern erupted with roars of approval.

"My first order of business: we are taking over Black-Briar Meadery."


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Sorry for the break, but real life caught up to me. Back to the story I will pour out as much as I can for a while. S/O to my beta Lady of Dov. She is an excellent author. ****Read her stories.**

_The Reachman_

_Chapter 12_

**4E 187, Ragged Flagon, Riften**

"Lad, that's bad business." Came Brynjolf's attempt at reasoning. Other than Bryn the entire Guild was speechless.

"Let me explain. We are not just taking over Black Briar Meadery, we are taking out Maven. Completely. She is a threat to the Guild. How many of us have been threatened by her, or her lackey Maul? The Guild had always been ran independent of any Clan. Yeah, we have had patronage, but never a Clan having the Guild in their pockets. We can move her out of the way, and also take over the Meadery, therefore turning us a hefty profit at the same time."

Delvin, always the reasonable one, inquired, "How will we pull that off?"

"I'm glad you asked, kin of my kin. Delvin, head over to Goldenglow set it up as a training area for new members. We are going to need to bolster our ranks in order to make this move. Train them to live double lives like our finest merchant. Speaking of you, Bryn, hit the city. Recruit openly. Skyrim knows we are back, but they know we are under the Black-Briars thumb. Vex, infiltrate all real estate owned by Maven, find any dirt on her possible. Everyone else report to the Nightengale's every so often for jobs."

**…..**

"Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak. It's an honor to meet a true son of Skyrim." The thief said.

"Cut the crap, thief. Just tell me what you want so you can leave." The Bear replied.

"Sir, I was just here to deliver this letter, stating Maven Black-Briar's affiliation with the Thalmor."

**…..**

"Lady Elenwen, mail for you. It was brought by a Bosmer in odd leather armor." Ondolemar reported.

He awaited the reply of his only equal in Skyrim. He knew how he would handle knews of one of his assets being involved with the Dark Brotherhood. But Maven was Elenwen's and he wanted to judge her reaction.

"Round up some of your men, we have a influential Nord who needs to tour the Embassy." The First Emissary told the First Justicar.

**…**

"High-King Torygg, a courier arrived with this letter. Apperantly Maven Black-Briar is involved with the Thieves Guild. She has been patronizing the Guild for years." Falk Firebeard informed his King.

"By the Divines! Send word to the Emperor. We will need a full investigation into this." Torygg responded.

**…**

"Aaahhhh, it's beautiful when a plan comes together." Mathurin smiled. He was clearly pleased with the news of Maven's plummeting reputation throughout Skyrim. He was one step closer to making the Guild one of the richest institutions in all of Tamriel.

He was sitting at the Guildmaster's desk in the Cistern. Vex, Delvin, and Brynjolf were gathered together to report in on Operation Meadery Reserve.

"We have destroyed Maven's public life, lad. She still hasn't stepped down from her role at the meadery and she still has her claws in our Guild." Bryn stated.

"Vex, get Cynric, Niruin, and Thrynn and go to Maven's Lodge. Her youngest son sold her prize mare out from under her nose. He is selling it to Louis Letrush. Let's make things personal."

"What you got for me then?" Came the nasally accent of Delvin.

"You? I want to change the head of the Black Briar Clan. Not saying we are going to kill Maven, but we need to know who to replace her with. I personally like Ingun the best, but she might stand up. I want Sibbi out of the way. Hamming is weak and pliable. I want him. He will head the Black-Briar Clan, get Dirge to meet me. He will take over Maul's position. Maul will be the new bouncer of the Flagon."

"Lad, I honestly didn't believe this plan would work. Yet, now I'm starting to believe in you." Brynjolf grinned.

"Well, then let's get to work!" Mathurin beamed.

**…..**

"Lady Black-Briar, you have committed crimes against Skyrim and her people." The guard told Maven, the fear laced in his voice.

"Do you know who I am?" the matriarch screamed.

"A traitor to Skyrim, a patron to both the Thieves Guild and the Dark Brotherhood. Ma'am you can come in quietly or I can call in back-up."

With that Maven Black-Brair's tyranny over Riften was brought to an end.

**…..**

Back in the Cistern, Mathurin stood in the center of the room. He had the thieves of the Guild assembled before him, and Hamming Black-Briar was at his side.

"Today we introduce a new era of the Thieves Guild o' Skyrim. Lads and lasses, I present to you the newest patron of the Guild. Hamming will now be in charge of his Clan, and will have the Black-Briar shares in the meadery. He has gladly donated several casks of his family's mead for the Guild's celebration. Let's all get roaring drunk lads." Mathurin stepped down and took the first tankard.

The night pressed on and the Guild of Skyrim's best thieves continued to drink and party. The khajiiti in the Guild has snuck off into the training room to pass the skooma pipe around. Sapphire had snuck off with some younger thief. Delvin was trying in vain to get Vex to go to bed with him.

"Well, I guess the horny old git still has it in him." Mathurin told his Second.

Bryn snorted into his flagon of Nordic ale. He hadn't seen a time where the Guild was this prosperous. They had recruits coming in every day. Bases were being set up in every main city in Skyrim. Riftweld had been turned into a storehouse for the Guild while also serving as Mathurin's home in Riften. Goldenglow Estate still produced all the honey that the Tamriel famous Black-Briar Mead would ever need, while also serving as a training ground for the newest recruits into the Guild. The Cistern would be the base of the Nightengales and other senior members, but the junior members, associates, assets, and patrons would now head to Goldenglow. Delvin would start as the head of training on the morrow.

"To think lad, if you never were sent to Honorhall none of this ever would have happened." Bryn grinned, not realizing what he had started in the Reachman's mind.

"Yeah, cheers to Ulfric, cheers to Grelod."

Brynjolf ever the true son of Skyrim drank to Ulfric's health, while laughing at his guildmaster's sarcasm.

In Mathurin's mind he remembered what he was supposed to do, his vow to the Old God's for revenge against Madanach and Ulfric, his life under Grelod. All of it came back in a sobering rush. His father's death, his desire to bring the Reach back under his people's rule, every beating Grelod "the Kind" gave him.

"Brynjolf, why don't you hold down the fort until I come back"

Back on the dryside of town, he entered the Orphanage. Mathurin dropped into a stealthy crouch when he entered the lobby. Listening closely, Mathurin could tell that Grelod was telling the children that they would never be adopted. Mathurin listened for as long as he could handle it, then he entered the main room. He walked straight up to Grelod.

"Remember me, you old witch?" He said as harshly as possible as he sunk his dagger into her chest. Mathurin continued to stab the old woman over and over again. Every stab was payment for a beating he received as a child. The children cheered for the man dressed in black killing their dictator. Her assistant, however, went out screaming into the night. It was long before the Riften Guard entered the Orphanage. Mathurin still was sinking the blade into the old woman's chest. They proceeded to haul the man into prison.

It was around two in the morning when the jail guards reported a disturbance outside the jail. As most of the guards left the building to investigate the noise, a shadow moved through the building. The shadow came to a rest outside of Mathurin's cell.

"Here is the milk drinker who stole our kill. Take him to the shack." She ordered as two more shadows materialized beside here. "Either we kill him, or he will join us."


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Feel free to give me some feedback. Starting the Dark Brotherhood questline. I realize I am skimming through these questlines. I'm doing it for a reason. These are only minor story arcs. They only support the main story. Also shout out to the anon reviewer, you made my day. You are grea**t. **I love hearing from people.**

_The Reachman_

_ Chapter 13_

** 4E 187, The middle of freaking no where, somewhere in Skyrim**

Mathurin woke to Vex hovering over him. He just ignored her and attempted to go back to sleep. As Mathurin turned his head to ignore the promiscious thief he realized he had no clue where he was. He jumped up with a start. His hand tried to grab his dagger only to find it was no longer there. He had been stripped to only his small clothes. His manhood clearly evident as he stood.

"Careful there stranger. Are you always excited when you wake up, or just when you see a pretty stranger?" His kidnapper asked rhetorically. She wore an armor set that made the Guild's armor look modest. Her armor fit her body perfectly. It accentuated every asset of her shapely body. Her blond hair done in the typical Nordic fashion. She was beautuful in a dangerous way. Her outfit was emblazoned red and black. Mathurin knew she was Dark Brotherhood.

"So Astrid, we finally get to meet." His poker face held true. He really was fishing for answers but he had spent years learning from professional thieves so he had picked up a skill or two. He was pleased to see her composure falter for a split second.

"I believe the pleasure is all mine." She returned. Her voice a seductive husky tone. Mathurin knew its purpose was to get him riled up, he wouldn't. He had spent enough time with Tonilia than to fall for that. That was how she conned her marks. She would seduce them, then slip them a stamina poison. When the mark was passed out Tonilia robbed them blind.

Everything about this one screamed at Mathurin to kill her now. He just couldn't do it. He knew he could overpower her, if she remained unarmed. He just felt a strong desire to listen to her. It was unnerving. It was the same feeling he had when he was around the Briarhearts as a boy. It was the same pleasing sensation he had when he heard Nocturnal, or when he bashed the Daedric priests head in for the Mace. He wanted to be near her. He had to be near her. He needed to know what this feeling meant.

"You stole our kill." She told him frankly. Her displeasure clearly evident in both her body language and her actual spoken word. He looked at her confused. "Ah, so you didn't know. Well then, that makes this even better. I'll explain this real slow, Reachman. Grelod the Kind was a Dark Brotherhood hit. We were supposed to kill her. We had an assassin in place. We were waiting outside Riften. When Babette came running to us, saying that the Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild had killed Grelod, several of our members cried out for blood. Babette however has been in Riften for months, she knew all about you. She insisted I at least test you myself before I pulled your tongue through a new hole in your throat."

"Well then, Lady Astrid. What will you have me do?" Mathurin asked. He needed to tell the Guild what was happening. He needed to get out of this shack alive.

"Well, now. Funny you should ask. If you turn around, you'll notice my guests. I've 'collected' them from... well, that's not really important. The here and now. That's what matters. You see, there's a contract out on one of them, and that person can't leave this room alive. But... which one? Go on, see if you can figure it out. Make your choice. Make your kill. I just want to observe... and admire." She laughed through her smile. It was a very feminine smile, not very loud.

She threw an iron dagger at his feet. It sliced into the floor board a mere inch from Mathurin's foot. He retrieved the dagger and walked over to the "Guests" as Astrid called them. A khajiit, a Nord, and an Imperial. Personally, he could kill all three and never blink an eye, but he wanted to know why he was killing them. So he started asking questions.

"Whoever this is, clearly we got off on the wrong foot. Ah, but no worries. This is not the first time I have been bagged and dragged." The Khajiit joked. It was a foolish joke. No one should laugh this close to certain death.

"Cat, you speak when I ask questions. If I don't ask you anything you don't speak, understand?" Mathurin barked at the beast.

"Come now, whatever the problem, we can talk about it like civilized folk, hmm?" The Khajiit chuckled. His tail began to sway left and right. If the unknown "guest" really had been bagged before then, Mathurin understood how he thought he could escape again. He back handed the cat, "Who are you?"

"Ahhh... Vasha, at your service. Obtainer of goods, taker of lives, and defiler of daughters. Have you not heard of me? Perhaps I will have my people carve my name in your corpse as a reminder." Came the reply. Ah, a fellow member of the criminal underworld. Mathurin smiled.

"In case, you didn't know. I'm the Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild of Skyrim. As in: I'm the man who killed Mercer Frey. Do you think your 'people' could really stand against one of the strongest crime syndicates in Tamriel?"

"A man in my position makes lots of enemies. But what is a life threatening situation if not for mutual benefit, huh?" Vasha relented.

"Would someone pay to have you killed? I swear, Vasha, I'll kill you now if I don't get a straight answer!" Mathurin screamed.

"The real question is, 'Would someone pay to have me killed... again?' A day goes by without someone trying to gut me in the street, I get disappointed."

Mathurin left the cat. He approached the Imperial woman. He could tell from the sound of her voice as she nagged that he wouldn't like her. It drove him insane to listen to women like her. She reminded him of Grelod.

"I don't have time for this nonsense. I've got a home to keep and children to feed. Now let me out of here! Do some people look down on me? Have I made some enemies? You're damn right." She ordered. Mathurin knew she was afraid. He knew she acted that way for that reason. She was scared of dying. This was how she coped. She wanted to be the biggest thorn in his side so he would let her go.

"How about this; tell me your story. I still have the Nord to interview. I may yet let you live." He tried a friendlier approach. Maybe if he persuaded her she would reveal more to him. He knew Vasha deserved to die, he just didn't know if it was this exact hit.

"I live at Pinewatch Farm in Falkreath. My husband died during the Great War. I tried living off his pension but I couldn't afford everything I wanted. There was no way I was going to work for a living. So I adopted a bunch of brats and used the Imperial hand out to get by. So what the children aren't fed properly, or that they work in the fields. The six of them need to pull their own weight."

Mathurin thought back to Grelod. He remembered the treatment he had as a boy. He punched the Imperial in the nose. Blood squirted all over the room as her nose broke. The wooden chair she was sitting in flipped over backwards, depositing the woman onto the floor. He hoped he hadn't killed her.

Mathurin approached the groveling Nord. He was amazed at the cowardice of this man. Nords were supposed to be all "Glory or Sovngrade" and all that. Yet here was a Nord begging not to be killed.

"What did I do? Please, whatever it is, I'm sorry. I... I can hear you talking out there. Please, let me go. I've done nothing to you. Is this about that raid last week? I told Holgrim there was no honor in killing sleeping men, but he wouldn't listen! It wasn't my fault, I swear!"

Mathurin yanked the hood off the man's head. "Are you a Nord or an Altmer? Shut your groveling! You have to be the worst excuse for a Nord I have ever met."

The Nord groveled back, "I'm just a soldier. Killing is my job! Surely you can't fault a man for doing his job?" Chances were that he was no soldier. He was most likely a bandit, at most he was a mercenary.

"What was your job? Who are you?" Mathurin asked. Curiosity finally getting the better of him. He doubted the hit was on the Nord. It was most likely made out for Vasha. But he wanted to hear the full story.

"My name is Fultheim. I'm a soldier. Well, mercenary, really. You know, a... a sellsword. I've lived in Skyrim all my life. That's all! I'm a nobody, really. I've killed people. When I was ordered to. Maybe there were some times... some times I got carried away? But war is war. Right? Nobody could blame me for that. Could they? I've been selling my sword arm for years now. Killed a lot of people. Could be someone wanted revenge. But... But you're not going to kill me. Right? So can't you just let me go?" Fultheim blabbered. Snot bubbles were enveloping his right nostril, he was crying his eyes out. This "fearless" warrior was behaving like a boy would if his dog died.

With that final attempt to plead for his life Mathurin knelt next to him. He made sure the captive Nord never saw the dagger. He placed his fighting arm behind the man, as if to comfort him. Then he put his left hand to the "guests" face.

"Sssshhhh, everything is okay. I'm sure once you leave here you can return to your bandit hole and continue on with your life. I'm sure the hit wasn't out on you." Mathurin comforted. The Nords breathing calmed as he listened to Mathurin's words. When he finally regained a dignified composure Mathurin sank the blade through the nape of his neck. He pushed the blade in between Fultheim's vertebrae, severing his spinal cord. Fultheim the Fearless was dead before he hit the ground.

When the Imperial and Vasha heard the body crunch they both let out sighs of relief. Apperantly they thought they were off the hook.

He walked over to the Imperial woman and pulled the hood off of her head."Finally, you recognize who you are dealing with. My family in Bruma will hear of this!"

As she opened her mouth to yell even more at Mathurin he shoved the blade up through her chin into her skull. He watched the light leave her eyes. Then he made his way over to Vasha.

"Vasha, we talked of mutual benefits. Enlighten me of some business assests and I will let you leave here." Mathurin was not lying to the Khajiit. He would leave. By leave he meant he would die.

"Ri'saad is the biggest skooma dealer in Skyrim and Vasha is from his tribe. This one could get him to help that one's Guild. Maven Black Briar is strong in bad things, this one once stole a horse for her son. Vasha could get you in. The Silver-Blood family is corrupt. They lead Markarth even though Jarl Igmund is in charge."

"Thanks, Vasha. May you always walk on warm sands." Mathurin told the Khajiit then drew his dagger across his captive's throat. Ri'saad was common knowledge, Ri'saad was on Mathurin's payroll. Maven had been taken out. Hemming was now in charge and made for a nice puppet. The Silver-Blood family did interest him. The Silver-Bloods were the ones who turned Madanach, his biological father, against his adoptive father, Madanach's brother.

He made his way over to Astrid. He needed her appraisal of his work.

"Very well. You killed all three. You made sure you killed the contract. What was with seeing the faces?" Astrid winked at him. "Well, I understood the was a test of my willingness to kill. I was not supposed to know who to kill. I was just to kill without question. Also, I follow the Old Ways. I can't kill someone without them seeing me. Otherwise the spirit stays on Nirn finding it's killer."

"Ah, I understand now. Welcome to the Family."


	14. Chapter 14

_The Reachman_

_Chapter 14_

**4E 187, Riften, The Rift, Skyrim**

The Guildmaster entered the Flagon through the tunnel connecting the Cistern to the graveyard. The Guild was in its usual state of disarray. As Mathurin walked through the hideout of the infamous Thieves Guild, the majority of the eyes in the room were on him. He had disappeared two weeks ago without a trace. Everyone had assumed Maven had gotten her revenge. Mathurin couldn't help but laugh at that thought. Maven was insignificant now.

"Where is Bryn?" Mathurin bellowed over the din of the hierarchy of the Guild. The newer recruits were at Goldenglow, being trained by Delvin Mallory. Several thieves just stared at him. After a few minutes of waiting, Mathurin did something very reminiscent of Mercer Frey. In the most hateful tone possible, he barked, "I said, where is Brynjolf?"

Every thief worth his salt knew when the Guildmaster yelled to do whatever he said. Every tight leather wearing scum of Nirn turned and pointed to the side room. It was formally a training room, but Bryn and Mathurin had turned it into a planning room as soon as they took over the Guild.

Mathurin began to walk over to the planning room, when Thrynn laughed. "Guildmaster, you need to probably give him a few minutes. Sapphire has him….uh…preoccupied." The other thieves around the room all laughed. Apparently this had been going on for quite some time since they were all pretty unfazed by it. He decided he would catch up with the senior guild members and if Bryn still hadn't finished he would interrupt. So he spent only Anu knows how long catching up on all he had missed the previous two weeks.

After checking on his guild family he cried out, "Bryn, did I name you my Second for you to sleep with your fellow members?" He made sure it was evident he was only kidding.

From the next room over, you could hear Sapphire yell at him for leaving her. Also completely audible was the Second in Command of the Thieves Guild attempting to hurry and get dressed while running to the next room. To his defense when Brynjolf entered the main room of the Cistern he had on pants as well as his cuirass mostly fastened. Although some fastens were in the proper place.

"You're back!" He exclaimed. He swept forward through the room to hug Mathurin as one would a brother. "I didn't believe the rumors that Maven had finally gotten to you."

"Bryn, I have some news. But first I need you to update me on the Guild's happenings." He had plans to return the Guild to all of Tamriel. Other than in Skyrim, the only operating Guild was in Hammerfell and even they were very weak.

"You will love this, lad. Delvin says our ranks are soaring. He is having trouble housing everyone at Goldenglow. He started housing some of the older recruits at Riftweald. We now have about one hundred thieves under our banner. Glover says to keep sending him orders, he has enough leather to make them all the customary guild armor we all love. Vex has been going crazy. She has hit several larger cities and is even planning on hitting Bruma Castle over in Cyrodiil next week. She leaves out tomorrow if you want to talk to her. I know you two are still rocky after what happened in Solitude. As far as my job goes, our coffers are spilling over with the septims coming in. Our fences are having to actually work to pay for all our stolen items." The pride in seeing the Guild returned to its former glory was practically dripping from his voice.

"Bryn, that's great. I have several plans for the Guild's future, but that will have to wait. What I need to tell you is I didn't simply disappear. I am sure you heard I killed Grelod, correct? Well, I was ousted from prison maybe an hour after being thrown in. The Dark Brotherhood kidnaped me" (at this several gasps emitted from the gathered crowd)… "No, not in that way. They wanted to recruit me. I am going to train with them for a while, but I will still check in here periodically. I will still steal my share of crap to fill our coffers. When I am not here, Brynjolf is effectively Guildmaster, with Delvin acting as his Second."

…**.**

Mathurin stood outside the Black Door pondering where his life would go next. His life story told out like Anu were writing a book for other people's amusement. Why couldn't he live a quiet life? Why couldn't he have been one of the princes who had a boring rule? Why was his life was in a constant state of upheaval?

Mathurin approached the handle on the door when a voice from the depths of Oblivion sounded out in his head. What is the music of life? He had to ponder back to Astrid's instructions on how to get in. "Silence, my brother," He hoped he guessed correctly. With a few seconds of suspense the door creaked open. As Mathurin crossed over the threshold of the door, he knew there would be no turning back. He was no longer a thief, he would be an assassin.

He stepped into the Sanctuary and discovered the place looked more like one of the Nordic ruins that dotted the land than the home of the most infamous assassin brotherhood in Tamriel. He remembered how the Ragged Flagon looked when he first joined the Guild. It was like Padomay and Anu were calling him to return yet another faction to its former glory. He turned down the steps and saw Astrid. Instantly his body reacted to her. He didn't know what it was with this woman, he knew nothing about her other than that she was the matron of this branch of the Dark Brotherhood.

"Ah, thief, glad you could join us. How did your Guild brother take your recruitment? I hope it didn't dissuade you from your current line of work. I think your new family already has some things for you." She smiled, her demeanor penetrating Mathurin to the bone. He had always wanted a woman to be like this. The way Vekel was with Tonilia, The Snow-Shods, there were countless people were so happy together. While all he had was Vex and Muirin. The only true issue with Muirin was that she would require him to settle down. She would try to make an honest man of him. He would end up a farmer or a merchant. He couldn't handle that. So he continued to see her everytime he was in the Reach, and he would leave her the next day.

"Go meet your new family." She commanded. He knew it was an order, yet it didn't come across as one. It seemed more akin to a suggestion. Mathurin obeyed like the little lost puppy he truly was.

He descended another set of stairs and saw the illustrious Dark Brotherhood for the first time. He was stunned to see a ragtag mixture of races all gathered around discussing their favorite kills. By the surroundings the Thieves Guild was better off than this group of killers for hire. He slowly approached the group and could hear the kills being discussed. He actually saw the group for who they were. There was an old grumpy Imperial, a very green Argonian, a Dunmer mage, a Redguard man who looked like he had a truly great story to tell, a silver haired Nord who was shirtless (no doubt a barbarian like most from this nation), and a little girl who couldn't be any older than ten years. The Argonian requested the child retell a story of how she lured her contract into an alley by acting like she wanted him to buy her some candy. Once inside the alley she proceeded to rip the man's throat out with her fangs. Ah, so she is a vampire he thought. He was repulsed, yet excited at the same time. Then the conversation turned to the oldest member of the group talking about how he had tested out a new spell on his target. The group continued to mock and applaud as they told more and more stories. Mathurin finally made himself known to the group as he discovered that the Nord was a werewolf.

Nazir, the Redguard, motioned him over. As he walked to the Speaker, Babette saw him and said," Ah, the whole 'choose your victim' gag, I love that one." From this, he deduced that he was the real victim of the killings, none of those people were real targets. Astrid had just wanted him to kill for her. He sat at a table in the dining area next to Nazir. Nazir looked at him in a disapproving manner before commenting," So you're the newest member of our dwindling, dysfunctional little Family. I've heard about you, Guildmaster."

"It's nice to meet you." Mathurin offered. He didn't know how he was supposed to treat his new "Family".

"Yeah, yeah, kid, lets skip the pleasantries. I'm not investing in you if you're going to die tomorrow." Mathurin paled. "I have three contracts for you. When you complete them, then we will talk pleasant."

"Well, then let me have them," Mathurin told the obnoxious Redguard. He did not like the Redguard. His attitude was the exact opposite what what you would expect from a family member.

"Narfi is a beggar living in a run-down shack on the outskirts of Ivarstead. Make his death look like a suicide. Ennodius Papius is a former mill owner who apperantly made some enemies before he retired. He is camped out near Anga's Mill. Make it seem as if animals attacked him. Lastly, Beitild is a mine owner in Dawnstar. She will be your most difficult kill out of the three. We honestly don't care how you kill her, just kill her."

"I'll see you when I return," and he set out to kill.

…**.**

He entered the Vilemyr Inn. The barkeep was cleaning out a mug with a rag at the counter. Mathurin sat down and ordered an ale.

"Here is the ale. What brings you here? Come to make the Pilgrimage?" The bartender asked.

"Nay, just passing through town." Mathurin answered. He watched the bartender's face.

"We don't get many travelers around here who aren't here for the trip. It makes for a sad living for an inn keeper. By the way, my name is Wilhem in case you need me." Wilhem returned.

"Well, anything going on around town? Any stories or rumors?" Mathurin continued to sip on his ale. He really wished he could return to the Flagon for a new contest with his Guild brothers. He longed to go pint to pint with Cynric and Niruin.

"Well, Temba has been having issues with some bears. She owns the mill, and she can't get new lumber because all of the stinking bears. I heard she put up a reward for bear pelts." Wilhem offered.

"Nah, not really my thing. Any other news?" Mathurin ordered another ale. His human blood had to have been Nord, he could drink way than too much to be anything else. If only his Elven blood allowed him to truly enjoy the alcohol. Elves like wine or brandy but only if it was fermented in a certain way. Otherwise it was incredibly unhealthy on them. Nords however made alcohol out of anything. They used wheat, barley, rye, potatoes, corn, and even snowberries. He was torn between two worlds.

"Fastred wants to move in with her lover in Riften, but with the Thieves Guild so strong in Riften her family won't let her go there. While she pines for her lover, Klimmek sits here every night drinking his heart out. He wants her as much as she wants the other man." Wilhem smiled.

"I am no man of romance, Wilhem. After how my mother treated my father, I doubt I'll ever wed." Mathurin grimaced.

"Ah, a man of sorrow." Mathurin couldn't help but smile as Wilhem struck the nail on the head. "I'll tell you all about Narfi then. Narfi is the beggar in the burned down house down the road. His parents died, so his sister was left to raise him. He never was the sharpest tack in the box, but Reyda took good care of him. She used to collect ingredients along Lake Honrich, but about a week ago she went out and never came back. She probably died, but no one will tell Narfi."

"Thank you. I now know someone's life is sadder than my own. I'll take a room for the night."

Mathurin paid for his room and headed to bed.

…

Mathurin woke early the next morning and set out immediately for Narfi's home. He spent several hours trying to talk to Narfi. He accomplished nothing, but he knew he needed to prove to the man that his sister was dead.

Mathurin searched all over Lake Honrich's shores, but he never found any trace of Reyda. He had searched all day for a lead but never received one. So as Masser and Secunda drew close, Mathurin began to set up camp.

Mathurin woke the next morning with a fresh idea. He would use his very rarely used Magicka to find Reyda. Calling on his untapped powers, he channeled his very being into finding Reyda, or her corpse. Soon a purple trail lit up the earl morning. It headed straight for the water. Mathurin sighed as he stripped out of his shrouded armor and dove into the water.

…..

When he returned to Narfi he was torn. This man was a mental case. He was truly Void touched. Sheogorath's chosen would accept him into their ranks. Mathurin just didn't have it in him to kill the beggar. After watching Mathurin watched the distraught Narfi, he decided he would let the man do the job. He motioned to Narfi to grab the knife he used to eat the rotten food he had in his home. He showed Narfi were he could stab to end it quick and painlessly.

Mathurin left Ivarstead with the bile in his throat threatening to burst from his mouth. Whoever had ordered the hit on Narfi was either a sadist or a merciful son of a buck. Mathurin pushed the memory from his mind. He had work to do. He had to kill the ex-miller. He set out for Anga's Mill in Eastmarch. He could hopefully get there with two days of hard riding.

…

Sure enough two days later he was standing outside of Anga's Mill. He watched the two lumberjacks saw several logs in half. He at times wished for a normal life, one of security for the future, one where he knew what he would do the next day. Then Mathurin remembered how bored he got when he stayed in one place for too long. He would never be content here. He knocked on the door of the mill owner's house.

A Nordic woman stepped out to greet him. She had high cheekbones and fierce, proud eyes. "Yes?"

"I was just looking for some work. My father used to work for an Imperial by the name of Ennodius Papius. I was following him all the way from Solitude, I lost him in Windhelm. I was told in Windhelm that he was working for you down here."

"I can't say one way or the other if he is working for me. I have too much stuff to do. I'm sorry, but you will have to keep looking for him."

"Ah, my kind lady, tell me your troubles. If I can help soothe your pain, allow me to do so." Mathurin had seen Brynjolf do this a thousand times. Whether he was aiming to get laid or not, his skills of speech craft were renowned all over Riften.

She smiled, her cheeks flustered. She was obviously to accustomed to the rough talk of the lumberjacks. "Oh well, its just average day to day owning a lumber mill for the most part. Wait, would you be going to Dawnstar soon?"

"Actually, if everything goes to Oblivion here I am heading there for some mining. I happen to know a mine owner."

"Is the relationship a serious one?"

"It is dead serious, but not in the way you think. I swear by the Gods."

"Oh, well how about you stay the night, and we find Papius in the morning." She smiled.

As the rooster crowed bringing on the new day, Mathurin rolled out to bed to find the Nord woman had prepared him a meal to break his fast.

"Well, where is Papius? I am dying to meet him." Mathurin asked. In his mind he was rolling with laughter at his play on words.

"He is camped out down the river. He is on the run from some rivals. He thinks they hired assassins. So I wouldn't let him stay at the common house with the other log men."

"Thanks. I'll be back after I deliver your message."

"Mathurin, it would probably be healthy for you to use the main road to Whiterun then over to Dawnstar. Bandits aren't as prone to attacking the main roads as they are the side roads. Besides you have no winter gear and you don't have enough Nordic blood to keep yourself warm."

Mathurin walked maybe twenty minutes upstream until he found an abandoned camp. No one was around. He found a note addressed to Aeri (was that the Nordic woman's name?) telling her he was going to head off to find some trees to fell.

...

Mathurin set out hunting for a large elk or deer. He would need the meat and blood. He hunted for around three hours before finding a decent sized bull elk. Drawing out the hunter bow he had brought for this expressed reason, he knocked an arrow. Aiming at the bull, he paused to feel the wind. It was blowing strongly to his right so he would need to aim left. Towards the hindquarters. Pulling back the bowstring Mathurin recalled all the archery lessons Niruin had given him. Breathe in. Relax. Fire. Breathe out. Not even a full second later, the bull went down. It was not dead, the shot had went too high. It had hit the spinal cord. The elk was paralyzed, but it was making all sorts of noise. Mathurin hadn't meant to do this, but it worked out in his favor. Every predator in the woods would begin to track the elk. He drew back another arrow, this time approaching the wounded animal. When he came too close the elk tried to stand. When all the muscles were taught, he fired the arrow into the animal's neck. With the elk dead, Mathurin drew his hunting knife. He began to skin the hide off the bone. Ell hide was not worth enough to keep, but he could use it for a little while. He began to field dress the animal. Stuffing the organs inside the hide, he began to slice the meat up. When he finished he put as much meat as his makeshift rucksack would hold and headed back to the camp. Every one hundred yards or so he would let some fall out of the rucksack. He made the perfect trail for the wolves or bears to follow. When he was finished he climbed the nearest tree with cover and began to wait.

Mathurin did not have to wait long, he had been in the tree for two hours when the wolves entered camp. They ravaged the remains of the carcass. As if Padomay were smiling on him, Papius walked right into camp. The wolves turned to face the exhausted man. The blood of their meal still burning red on their muzzles. Papius did not last three minutes. With a smile, Mathurin used his bow to dispatch the wolves and set out for Dawnstar.

…..

When he set out for Dawnstar he remembered Aeri's advice and went through Whiterun first. He bought a fur cloak some fur clothes and a pair of snowshoes. When he finished his purchases, he headed north. About an hour later, he was approaching a farm. Outside of the farm was a wagon. The horse had been rode too hard and the wheel had broken. A jester, of all things, stood beside the wagon. Jester's had not been seen in Skyrim since the Septim Dynasty fell. It was truly an odd sight. He had no way of knowing this jester would eventually be essential to his life.

"Oh, bother and befuddle! Stuck here! Stuck! My mother, my poor mother. Unmoving. At rest, but too still!" The jester screeched. A guard on patrol turned and started walking towards the broken wagon. "Poor Cicero is stuck. Can't you see? I was transporting my dear, sweet mother. Well, not her. Her corpse! She's quite dead. I'm taking mother to a new home. A new crypt. But... aggh! Wagon wheel! Damnedest wagon wheel! It broke! Don't you see?"

"Is your name Cicero?" Mathurin asked. His curiosity again getting the better of him. The lazy Nord was slowly walking towards them, but he was in no rush.

"What kind of silly question is that? Why do you ask such things while poor Mother is stuck here? Of course Cicero's name is Cicero. If it wasn't you wouldn't call him Cicero. Now will you help poor Cicero and Mother? Must get Mother out of the weather. Cicero will give the kind stranger shiny, pretty gold. Yes! Yes! Cicero will give Stranger a whole bag full of gold if Stranger will help."

"Fine, I'll help. What do I need to do?" Mathurin sighed. He really didn't have the time for this, but he did want to help out a fellow traveler. It was a poor man just wanting to bury his mother. He looked at the jester and realized the fool had the same craziness that he at times had to fight off. Mathurin's mind was normally ordered, but using the Mace or hearing Nocturnal made everything taste of sweet chaos.

"Oh. Oh, yes! Yes, the kindly Stranger can certainly help! Go to the farm - the Loreius Farm. Just over there, off the road. Talk to Loreius. He has tools! He can help me! But he won't! He refuses! Convince Loreius to fix my wheel! Do that, and poor Cicero will reward you. With coin! Gleamy, shiny coin!"

So Mathurn walked up the hill to talk to the farmer. "You Loreius?" He asked the man when he got to the fence by the edge of the farm.

"May be that I am, why?" Loreius replied.

"You know why. Ever hear about helping out a traveler in need? Don't the Divines say something about blessed are the poor, blessed are those who help the poor?" Mathurin had been preached to by the Priests of Mara all his life. He could quote the teachings.

"What? And just who in Mara's name are you, anyway? Hmm? Come here, telling me my business. And for what? To help a... a... a fool!"

"Aren't we all children of Mara? Are we not all supposed to carry her blessing in us? Help the man out, he will be gone quicker."

"Look, I... I... You're right. You're right. Feller might be nutters, might not. But fact is, he needs help. I turn him away, what kind of man am I, hmm? Look, um... Thanks. And I'm sorry for my unneighborly reaction. If you talk to Cicero, you be sure and tell him I'll be down to help soon." The farmer relented.

Back down the hill the guard was asking Cicero questions. Mathurin interrupted the impromptu interrogation to inform the guard that Cicero would cause no trouble and that Loreius was coming to fix the wagon.

"Oh, Stranger! You have made Cicero so happy! So jubilant and ecstatic! But more! Even more! My Mother thanks you! Here, here. For your troubles! Shiny, clinky gold! A few coins for a kind deed! And thank you! Thank you again."

With that business over and Mathurin pocketed the septims that Cicero gave him. He hoped to reach Dawnstar within the hour.

….

Okay, so maybe approaching a mine owner in front of all her miners and telling her the Dark Brotherhood has come to claim her soul for the Void was a bad idea. On par with telling said miners they would get no pay. When Mathurin made the mistake, he was immediately set upon by two of the workers. Two stereotypical Nords. One woman one man. Mathurin threw a right swing at the man's jaw. While he was extended the woman punched Mathurin's exposed ribs. As he turned Mathurin put all his strength into kicking the woman's ribs. The hit was a hard one, but she caught his leg and was trying to throw him off balance. The Nord man saw this as a fit time to jab at Mathurin's face. Mathurin pushed one fist out of the way and backhanded the male Nord with the hand he had just used to deflect the punch. Using both hands he shoved the Nord back. He turned back to look at the woman still holding his leg. Growing up in Riften, Mathurin had seen many different types of fighting techniques. He recalled one taught to him by a traveling Dunmer. He took a small hop on the leg still on the ground and then one large bound. When his leg came out off the ground he lashed out at the female miner's head. His foot connected and she went down, unconscious. Rolling off the ground, Mathurin turned to see his other opponent running full speed towards him. Doing the least predictable thing, Mathurin charged back at the Nord. The Nord faltered for just a split second, and that second was all Mathurin needed. He jumped into the air, pulling both feet up. He shoved both feet out to connect to the Nords chest. The Nord went backwards, most likely with a broken sternum. Mathurin landed on his back in the snow.

Now to find Beitild, Mathurin ran straight into the mine. He drew out his dagger and prepared for her to come out at any moment. At times Mathurin wished he used a sword to keep his enemies at a distance, but in this close of quarters, a dagger would be the best weapon to use. Ironic that a Companion's dagger was being used to kill the people of Skyrim.

He found her at what would be a hub of this particular mine. A campfire had grown cold. She stood near one of the support beams, holding the mine up.

"Come now, the Dread Father awaits."

"Well, if I am dying I am taking you with me!" With that she swung her pickaxe into the weak support beam. He could tell she had been doing the same thing the entire time he had been outside fighting. He sprinted across the mine trying to reach her in time to stop her. His legs churned up the permafrost, she swung again. He raised his dagger to swing downwards into her. Her pickaxe broke through the beam.

The earth rumbled. Mathurin's Skyforge Steel dagger buried into the forehead of the stubborn woman. Rocks fell from the ceiling. Mathurin tried to pry his blade from the woman's skull.

He never saw the rock. Mathurin's world went dark, as the Iron-Breaker Mine caved in…..


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: I really liked this chapter, I love adding stuff to the story. No TES game talks about how the legal system works. This was mainly a recap chapter to remind everyone (and Mathurin) who Mathurin who he is and what he has to do. I will do the Dark Brotherhood in two maybe three chapters, Then its on to straight original material. Right up until the Dragonborn and Mathurin's stories meet. Also, S/O to Lady of Dov for being my excellant beta. I sent her my version of this chapter. I received her edited and reviewed version less than 24 hours later. I would say for you to ask her to be your beta, but she is mine, all mine! Well, at least until my Stormcrown Alliance series is done.**

_The Reachman _

_Chapter Fifteen_

**4E 187, Dawnstar, The Pale, Skyrim**

Mathurin woke to drumming in his head. The war drums of his people pounded against the inner parts of his skull. He was in a cave. A cold, dark cave. All Mathurin could think was how did he get here. He was dressed as an average miner in Skyrim. In his fur pack he had the pieces to a broken bow, some shattered arrows, and a meager amount of Septims. At his side a mace was strapped to him. It very aura permeated evil. It soothed him.

Mathurin looked around the cave. He was trying to remember how he had gotten here. He saw the feet of a person sticking out of the cave in next to him. He wouldn't be able to dig her out. He felt sorry for her. He prayed that whatever Gods she worshiped would take pity on her soul. He also prayed that Padomay would see him out of the mine. He was trapped. He only hoped someone came to rescue him.

Mathurin had about ten feet of room around him. He had nothing to do to kill time but sleep and try to figure out who he was. As entertaining as the thought of who he was would be, he decided he would sleep first. No where would be comfortable for him to lay down, but he would make do. Removing everything from his bag he put it on the ground. Laying his head on the makeshift pillow Mathurin began to dream of a city of stone.

…**...**

Mathurin was in what appeared to be a throne room. His father and uncle stood before the throne. They were arguing with each other, but he heard no sound. It was as if the Gods had taken the noise out of the world. Had he gone deaf? His father Mathoc yelled something at his brother. It appeared to the adult Mathurin to be particularly harsh. His father's face rippled with anger. The veins in his forehead clearly visible. His face getting redder with every syllable. Finally Mathoc turned and grabbed a small boy beside him. When he saw the child staring up at Mathoc, he remembered he was in line to the throne. He rightfully should be sitting the Mournful Throne, not sleeping in a cave.

…**...**

Mathurin woke with a start. He could hear a Nordic voice yelling at him.

"Stay calm. Help is coming!"

"I think I will just stay right here." Mathurin replied. His head was spinning. Apparently while he slept he was not breathing enough. His stomach growled. His light snack was beginning to wear off.

He checked his bag to find it empty of helpful items. He would be stuck until the Nords got him out.

He decided to take another nap to pass the time.

…**...**

Ulfric Stormcloak walked through the mass of soldiers. Every Nord stared in awe at the only Reachman still fighting. He held a wicked mace in one hand and a regular iron mace was in the other. He was killing every Nord who met him. This man had to be Mathoc, the madman general of the Reach. Ulfric stepped forward picking up a sword from a fallen soldier. He preferred an axe, but to fight the Reachman he would need the range the sword provided.

Ulfric stepped forward and used one of the only words of the Dragon language he knew. _**FUS. **_Loose chert and small rocks flew out as the sound wave projected forward. His militia men stupid enough to not move were caught in the path went stumbling off to the side. Mathoc turned to face his newest opponent, blood dripping off his weapons. The thu'um hit him right in the chest. It sent his body reeling backwards. As soon as his body hit the ground Ulfric knew the fight was over. Every fighting man worth his salt knew that if you were in the ground in combat you were either dead, dying, or about to die. Ulfric plunged his sword into the man's chest, right were his heart should be.

Ulfric heard a child cry somewhere.

…**...**

Mathurin woke to the sound of pickaxes driving through the hard rock. A helmet with an iron faceplate over it appeared in the newly formed gap.

"You alright in there?"

"Yeah I am just dandy in here, ya' know half starved, struggling to breath, in a cramped space with a dead body. Perfect I'd say" The sarcasm dripping like acid.

"We can stick some food and water through, but we can't get you out yet."

"Why in Oblivion not?"

"We may cause another cave in, so until we have new support built you will have to stay in there."

"You sure this has nothing to do with the dead woman?"

"To be honest, we aren't letting you out until one of the Companions comes to watch over you, filthy assassin."

Assassin? Was he really a cold blooded killer? Did he kill the person buried under all the rocks? Why was he stuck in a cave in Skyrim with no memory?

…**...**

Mathurin was laying beside Vex. Her naked form was pressed against his. This trip to the Guardian Stones had actually turned out to be pretty amazing. The woman he would do anything for, the one who gave this chaotic life of his some semblance of order. He was the happiest he had ever been. He thought back on his life, remembering his vows to kill Madanach his uncle who may actually be his father, his vow to kill Ulfric Stormcloak, to kill the entire Silver-Blood family. He longed to return from exile and retake his throne. Maybe sit Vex on a smaller throne beside him.

_Best not get those thoughts. _A voice told him.

His memory jumped to walking in on Vex and the inn owner's son. He had returned from his job earlier than expected. He hoped to return to Vex's bed as soon as possible. Yet, when he walked in, he was greeted by the sight of a bare naked man in the act with his Vex. How could he have been so stupid.

_This is what order brings, my child. Betrayal. Pain. Sorrow. My other children love these things, but you my child I want you to rise above these things._

_And so Mathurin had left. He never said a word to Vex. He did make sure they knew he was there as he left. _

…_**...**_

Mathurin turned to face the newest guards. They did not wear the typical armor of the Pale's face gear. This man had a stern face, his graying brown hair held up in a pony tail. Mathurin knew if he were to fight him to try to get a hold of it. It could be exploited as a weakness. Maybe he was an assassin.

"Hello, I am Mathurin."

"I know who you are. Assassin."

"I honestly have no recollection of how I got here. You see a rock hit my head."

"Right, and Beatild died by over eating sweet rolls."

"Can't you bring a mage to test me or something."

"I'll call in a fellow companion who has the sight. He will be able to tell me the truth. But we may be in the jail by the time he gets here."

"Ah so they can finally get me out of here?"

"Lad, they could have gotten you out days ago. No one really wanted to until I got here."

Mathurin sighed, it was of relief but fear was also mixed in, "What will you do to me?"

"Depending on Kodlak's judgment, we either kill you immediately or we stand you on trial. They have already sent out word to all the hold capitals that a Dark Brotherhood member was captured in Dawnstar."

…**...**

Mathurin was back in the Hall of the Nightingale. Nocturnal had just informed him that he would receive Her blessing but no more. Mathurin was saved for someone else. The thought that someone more powerful than a Daedric Prince wanted him scared Mathurin to death.

_Ah, child. You are starting to remember who you are. You aren't by nature mine, I took you from my brother. But I do have claim over you. My other agent is on his way. You will not be alone for your trials ahead. _

Mathurin blinked, the portal to Nocturnal's realm was fading. The odd purple glow becoming dimmer and dimmer until it was completely gone. In its place stood a doorway to pitch black. To nothing. It was a place scarier than all the planes of Oblivion. It was the Void.

…**...**

"Aye, what he says is true. He is struggling to remember who he is. Keep him locked up and under perfect guard. Every hour of the day he was watched by the two companions. He had learned the younger ones name was Skjor. Kodlak was not truly gifted with the sight. The sight was a gift by the Gods to prophets and seers. Kodlak could see into a man's very being. He could read your heart.

"Then we will tell the Jarls to meet in the White Hall. Skald will pleased to show off for the new High King."

"Torygg is now High King?" Mathurin asked. He had been locked up for two weeks, but surely Skyrim's political atmosphere hadn't changed that much.

"Yes, Skyrim is now ruled by a boy king. Torygg can't be sixteen summers old yet, but he sits the throne at Solitude. Falk Firebeard holds the majority of power there. He was Torygg's father's steward." Kodlak replied.

"I know you were in the Circle before I was but do you really find it wise to talk to him to freely?" Skjor sneered.

"He has been proven guilty of nothing. Until that time I will treat him accordingly."

_Hello again, Just reminding you help will be here when you need it most. Agent of Chaos. _

With that parting statement, Mathurin remembered who he was. His memory came rushing back to him like the Karth river through Markarth. He was a master thief, he was an assassin, he was a child of chaos. A child of Padomay.

**...**

Mathurin was walked out of the jail house. Apparently in the two weeks since the cave in, word had traveled. People packed into the streets of the Dawnstar. Skjor and Kodlak stood at each side.

"There hasn't been an assassin put on trial since the Dominion killed Potentate Ocato at the beginning of the era." Kodlak mused. He seemed to be thinking out loud, but Mathurin suspected that he was really just attempting to fill Mathurin in on the current happenings of Skyrim. Kodlak had taken well to the young man. He was definitely a killer, but that he had lost his memory Kodlak was sure of.

"Yes well, most assassins die before they are captured. At least any real assassin." Skjor huffed. The Breton and the younger Companion argued frequently. To say they did not like each other would be a major misunderstanding.

"Well, most don't hide behind some shiny armor and wait until their superior shows up to do their job for them." Mathurin knew he had crossed a line, but if he was walking to his death he would walk boldly.

"I hope Balgruuf pulls through on the vote to let me be the headsman. I have Skyforge Steel with your name on it." Skjor grinned.

Mathurin entered the White Hall. Every Jarl in Skyrim was sitting in the Jarl's home. Mathurin sneered upon seeing Jarl Igmund and Ulfric Stormcloak.

"Ah, Skald's prisoner. It is good to finally meet the famed Dark Brotherhood assassin." Ulfric grinned. He seemed to think this was a game.

"Ulfric, You have no idea how proud I am to see your face. I remember when you were a child and your father came into the city showing you off. Pride of the old Bear's eye you were." The older man chuckled. He was a sycophant. A weak sycophant.

"Ahem, Shall we begin?" . It was a cultured voice. Every word seemed practiced, rehearsed. It seemed that the speaker had been trained in court affairs. He just did not sound like a Nord. His speech patterns

seemed clearly Cyrodiilic. It was the voice of High King Torygg. He appeared to be around sixteen years old. He had shoulder length black hair and was beginning to grow facial hair around his chin and cheek bones. His crown must have been his fathers, it did not fit his head.

"Of course, boy. Let's get this over with." Ulfric said. He rolled his eyes as he spoke.

"Ulfric, Do you dare disrespect the High King?" One Jarl yelled. He was one of the younger Jarls, he appeared to be around Ulfric's age. He had chestnut blond hair and a broad torso.

"Relax, Balgruuf. I meant no disrespect. The boy just acts as if he were still in the Emperor's court. We are in Skyrim. We are Nords and must act as Nords."

"Anyway, To the trial. You are the Dark Brotherhood assassin?" The boy king asked. Mathurin nodded.

"Very well then, Housecarls escort the commoners out of the White Hall. Jarls take a seat. Does the accused have any legal counsel?" The boy grew serious.

"Legal counsel? These are Nord lands! Let him defend himself as is the ancient custom." Ulfric barked. Several of the Jarls nodded in agreement. The ones who didn't agree all seemed appalled.

"Very well. Accused, Identify yourself."

"I am Mathurin, son of Mathoc, the Madman General of the Reach, Nephew and heir of Madanach, King of the Reach. That's right Igmund, the boy you sent to die still lives. My father was killed by Ulfric during the forswearing of the Reach. From Clan Cynwig of the Ten Tribes of the Reach. Current Guild Master of the Skyrim Thieves Guild and Dark Brotherhood assassin.

Igmund shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He did remember the young prince he exiled.

"Did you kill Beitild?" High King Torygg asked.

"I think that was the rock slide. Just in case you had forgotten that had happened." Several housecarls laughed. He knew it was not wise to smart off to the people who were to decide his faith, but he would not back down.

"When we recovered her body she had a Skyforge Steel dagger in her forehead. Explain that."

"Skyforge Steel? The weapons of the famed Companions. Maybe Skjor killed her." Several people sniggered at his jest. Skjor however found no humor in it.

"Was Jergen the one who escorted you to Riften?" He asked. " I remember him being given one of those top priority missions right before he left. He ordered a dagger from Eorlund and I had to deliver it while I was out hunting a bear. I was only a whelp then. I remember how odd it was to have someone who wasn't a Companion with Companion weapons."

"Yes, Jergen escorted him there by my requested." Came Jarl Igmund. When he spoke Mathurin spit the biggest, nastiest glob across the room. The whole room gasped as his clothes were spoiled.

"Well, that settles that. Mathurin, son of Mathoc, have committed crimes against Skyrim and her people. We find you guilty of murder, larceny, and disrespecting the Jarl's law and the Jarl. Your punishment will be Skald's choice. You were captured trying to kill someone in his hold."

"Since so many have requested to be the Headsman, I don't think I can nominate anyone without offending someone. So we shall hang him from a tree until dead. The people will be allowed to attend."

…**...**

Mathurin stood in the saddle of a horse. A hangman's noose tied around his neck. Crowds had gathered from all over. He had awaited death for a week. They Jarl's had invited every man woman and child fit enough to travel to come witness the execution. What was odd was the crowd was made up almost entirely of humans. Mathurin honestly wouldn't have noticed had the green scales of an Argonian stood out amongst the mass of people.

Skald's Housecarl walked through the crowd to stand next to the horse. Skjor and Kodlak stood near the front of the crowd to serve as mediators. He promptly smacked the horse on the hindquarters. The horse bolted away from Mathurin. As he went into the air he did his best to shift his weight so his neck would break quickly.

As he felt the tension draw on the rope Mathurin closed his eyes. It would all end soon.

_I told you I would send help._

Mathurin heard the howl. It was an unearthly howl. Terror rose in him. The Companions shared a look of knowing between them,but could not react to the howls. The crowd of people were close to chaos. The Guards of the Pale were grabbing weapons and shouting about a werewolf on the hilltop. The Companions and the guards were attempting the keep the crowd calm and Sheppard them towards the city. People began to scream and panic. Mathurin felt the tension on the rope disappear. He hit the ground hard. He looked at the tree and saw an arrow sticking out. Someone had rescued him. He felt the ropes around his wrists get cut but when he turned to look no one was there. He snuck towards the distracted Companions. He needed a blade, but a lighter blade. Skjor was a walking arsenal. He had blades of every kind on his person.

Grabbing the dagger at Skjor's hip he stabbed towards of the man's head. Skjor jerked to escape the blade so it ended up stabbing into his eye instead of into his forehead. Blood spurted everywhere. Skjor collapsed. Mathurin couldn't help but think how good it was that the bastard was dead. He ran into the crowd. He could hear laughter coming from the other end of the panicking mass. Something told him he should head for the laughter.

Mathurin reached the other end of the crowd to find the laughter coming from the clown he had helped.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"The Stranger doesn't have time for questions! Soldiers are coming with swords, such pointy sharp swords. As they say, an eye for an eye."

"I don't have time for this!" Mathurin yelled. At his near repetition pf the jesters words, the fool died laughing.

"Peace brother, Astrid sent us to help" Came a hiss.

Mathurin turned to see Veezara holding a bow.

"We best hurry and use what little time Arnbjorn gave us."

…**...**

Mathurin woke in the Falkreath Sanctuary. He was lying in bed in the common room. He could feel a weight on his lap, but it was too dark to see properly. He cast a spell to detect life in the room. A reddish-purple glow lit up in front of him, but other than that the room was empty.

The person bent over Mathurin getting closer to his ear. As their bodies pressed closer together Mathurin could easily tell it was a she. She was breathing right into his ear. His blood was pumping.

Finally the body spoke and Mathurin identified the owner," Welcome to The Family." When the words left her mouth Astrid began to kiss down Mathurin's neck.

**AN:What do you think of my Astrid. I picture her as a seductress kind of person. Very manipulative, controlling, selfish. I hope to portray that in the next several chapters. Lemme Know what you think!**


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